When It Has to End

I just sliced through an artery to bleed …
for the sake of stopping the smaller,
damage-over-time cuts
that I’ve sliced now for so many years;
keeping them hidden from view.


Is this truley the only solution?
I didn’t want this and I still don’t.
It hurts going in this deep,
but it needs to be done.

It hurts, and I just want to cry and take it back.
But there’s no going back. That would not help me.
The blood needs to stain my shirt
before the scab can form.
Arteries aren’t so quick to heal though.
Critical hit!


I need a tourniquet to slow the bleeding!
Ssshhh… we can’t tell anyone.
Only the tourniquet could understand.
Only he can sooth me as I bleed out.
Ah… but that tourniquet, is too short,
cold and distant,
just out of my reach.

I don’t need it, anyway.


This..
this is emotional self-mutilation
in it’s rawest and most powerful form,
coming to its grand finale.


This is that tough love
that people always talk about;
That tough self-love
that I must show myself
by making that final cut;
or the wounds will never stop
and I’ll just keep running
that blade down my heart.


Let me bleed out right now in full,
so that I might be reborn
with a brand new heart–

one that doesn’t love him.

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