Idk edgy shit

I take my blade and start slicing.
I don’t really know why,
nor do I care.

115 days reduced to nothing,
just like that.
It’s kind of nice,
this odd sense of relief
now that I don’t have to watch that big number
grow bigger and bigger every day.

I have no reason to stop cutting,
It hasn’t fucked up my life enough yet.
I’m sure it will someday,
but today is not that day.

I only stopped for others.
To prevent long talks.
Pointless arguments.
Disappointment.

It’s not like I really planned on quitting.
I would lie in bed scared that I’d forget how to do it,
and I’d carry a blade with me everywhere I went.
“Don’t worry I won’t cut again”,
Yeah right.

I don’t even cut as a form of punishment anymore,
it's simply fun for me.

I love seeing the blood seep out my leg,
I love the burn when the hot shower water flows down my body,
I love sitting in my room grinning at the pain I just caused to myself.

Am I a masochist?
Is this all some odd kink?
Maybe we all need some kind of release,
Only mine comes in the form of a pencil sharpener blade.

Cigarettes, alcohol, drugs;
They’re all a release from this fucked up world,
if only for a moment.

I always wondered how my suicide letter would sound.
Maybe this will be it,
put in a glass bottle and thrown into the sea.
Because more pollution is just what this world needs