I cut myself.

I cut myself everyday. But I can barely feel it anymore. But I want to know that mysterious sweet pain, that comes after the razor blade has penetrated my skin. I want my mind to turn blank. To only feel that itchy feeling run through the wounds on my body. I want to hear how my breathing slows down and feel how my heart becomes strangely calm.

If you asked me how all of this started, I wouldn't know the answer. It feels like it's always been like this. Cutting, starving myself, eating, purging, running for several hours a day. When did I start to detest my body? When did it start to become so ugly? I don't know. Do you?

The worst thing is that I don't want to stop, even though I know what I am doing may someday- when I take it to far, kill me. But it doesn't really matter. Because I am not afraid of dying nor being forgotten. Death is only a mere state of tranquility. When I die, I will have the privilege of always being alone. I won't feel anything, not even that sweet pain that keeps the hours, the days and weeks going right now. I won't feel anything, I won't be anything. Not old, not young, nor beautiful or ugly. Because I won't have any feelings left that can affect that immobilized body of mine.

Will I wither away and die like a lonely flower in the winter? Or will I slowly fall like a leaf in the autumn? Right now, I think I am falling. And for the moment that's all I need. 

I am who I am.

I am a cutter
the pain devours me like a drug.
Breath out and lower your blade in side of my skin.
Feel my flesh, my warm blood and above all
my sweet pain.
I am a liar, and I lie because I can
my soft words 
you can never even tell
my life is a lie, I know because I made it up
I am young 
I am old
I am nothing I am told 
I am you 
I am me 
and all that's in between 
I am happy 
I am sad 
I am feeling so fucking scared
I am an alcoholic, and my sweet pain is my drug
let this be the first truth that I've ever told


//Raiden