Quivering with lust,
my flesh wants and craves,
desperately desiring,
the beautiful pain that saves.
The blade tearing through the skin,
leaving red tide in its wake,
And I need that sweet release,
if for only sanity's sake.

This heat near burns my skin,
and only blood can cool,
screaming in its need,
for liberation by the tool.
Torrents rage inside,
begging to be let free,
crying for the blade,
to banish it from captivity,

This misery weighs on me,
Yet I'm resisting through it all,
But how long will it be,
'till I pick up the blade and fall.

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