Anxiety of a Sin

The feel of the sharp blade against my skin

My heart pounding with anticipation

My fingers eager to do what I've already done

My mind knowing there's no going back

I lick my dry lips wondering what relief it'll bring

Slowly dragging the edge along my wrist

The blade opening the delicate paper layers

My hunger easing to a numbing bliss

Watching my once clean wound fill with red

The blood overflowing the edges of the cracks

Making a red stream flowing down my arm

With every drop of blood internal pain is relieved

I look at my other marks and wonder

When will my hunger for blood and pain cease

There is only so much that I can bleed

Before I stop altogether