Let It Flow.. Let It Flow.. Let It Flow
I don't know why I began cutting. My husband can't stand it but he doesn't threaten me to stop. I sit in the bathroom and search for a blade. Normally I use a Exacto knife but after I moved, I misplaced the blades. I never thought about it but a razor can do the work well. I figured the blades on the razor would block off cuts from all the plastic around it. All I had to do was apply more pressure than usual. The cuts were so fine and thin that I couldn't tell if I had broken the skin. I tried again and pushed deeper. I tried it about 4 times and then noticed the blood seeping through the slashes. They stung about since they were as big as a normal papercut. My husband came into the bathroom and saw me sitting by the tub watching my arm. I never seem to drip. I've always wanted to try to get it to drip down my arm but I was scared it would kill me. He would sit me on the toilet lid and get out a wet washcloth to clean my cuts. He is always very gentle with me when I do that.
Parts of me think I do it to get his attention. Other times I think I'm just depressed with the times. Deep down I think I just like the pain and sight of the blood. Sometimes I lick it to taste it. Better than wine. The feeling is better than weed.