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.