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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1675932
A cutter's diary.
I see the blade, what I’m tempted to use.

It’s like a drug. My favorite brand of extacy pills..

I sit with my tears traveling down my face.

And I hear myself screaming. Screaming and yelling, telling everyone, everything, to shut up.

Because I can’t take it. I can’t last one minute more without bleeding.



I take the blade. Pressing it to my skin, ripping through my flesh, I realize this is what I’ll always want.

And I no longer feel pain. It’s pleasure now. Forever. And I don’t picture myself ever stopping.

Watching blood flow out of my body,  I also see my pain being washed out, followed by my stress, my sadness, my anger.

But even though the pain has stopped, I’m not completely satisfied. I see the blade in my hand slicing my skin once again. Blood, we meet again. You’re my cure. You’re what I hold wanton for. You are what I need.

And I smile. I smile because right now, there’s no such thing as pain.

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