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.