I stare at them deep,
Just expecting them to vanish.

I hate baring the scars,
Nothing comes of it but the evil reminders.

I continue to wait,
In heavy anticipation.

Each day that passes,
Is closer to their disappearance.

I thought my veins pored for you,
But it was just my craving and bad judgment.

An un-describable disgust in my weakness,
Only adds to my addiction of blood to run deep.

I'd like to move from the shadows,
and reveal to you my worst imperfection.

How cold and real,
Not only the reining blood but depth of the incision.

With the one year of my infatuation nearing,
The more my weakness shines through all the faint glory i once had.

I've poured my frustration and anger,
Into the Beautifying pressure of a knife close against the flesh.

My countless memories of wrong doing and overwhelming life,
Finally accounted for in each mark placed upon me.

I hate thinking how common sick things come in this world,
Thinking that my relief is the choice of others as well.

The incredible burning sensation and sudden rush to the head,
Only gives me the chance to realize...this is my life.

-e.r.k
 
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