Do any of you struggle with cutting? 

Bright crimson red flows from her precious skin… A token of pain’s sweet embrace.  Darkness grips her stained glass heart again, as well-known tears kiss her joyless face.  Smooth as the writer’s loveliest pen, the blade creatively writes its song.  Of regret and pain, of love and hate.  A life void of hope for so long.
The blood seems to ease the numbness for a moment, much like drops of rain quench a dying plant’s thirst.  But one drop of rain is never enough.  And this scarring slash is only the first.