Stitched: A Cutters Diary

Let me be free from your crimson embrace
Your scarlet lips, caressing my skin
The feel of your clarity
Soaked in blood and bandages
I want no more of your voice screaming in my ears
Your scent seducing me
The feel of old wounds on my cold skin
The feel of scars forming to announce my pain loudly to a world not listening to my pleas
I want you no more, for looking at you makes me ill
I don't need you!
But how can I explain that I do?
The  sudden burst of skin breaking, cut through with the dullest blade, the shattering of the world and the rush of cool air on a dull, hot day
The shaking hands bandaging up wounds that are beautiful, almost to beautiful to bear
The scars that show what I am
When my words refuse to explain
I'm tempted by you
I hate you,
But I hate me more
Ah, blade
Lull me into sound sleep once more
And by mornings light, I shall need you no more