Steel traces lines of fire down my arm
Once healed, leaves lines of poetry
Pain is the greatest gift of self-harm
Body now a punishment's tapestry
In flowing crimson, my truth revealed
All can see images of my deep hate toward myself
Maybe while alive I will have myself peeled
Are there concerns about my mental health?
Agony, my drug of choice now
A willing addict always search for pain
I will always find a way to injure myself somehow
Need to do more as this high starts to wane
Watching my flesh seperate gives such a high
Glorious pleasure in releasing my bodies red juice
Sorting a fresh wound, emotionless eyes look to the sky
Stare in wonder at the portrait of my frenzied self abuse
I no longer care if I take it too far
It is as satisfying as a years worth of meals
Next time I might use a heavy iron bar
All I know is it will go on until it kills.
©Josh West
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