I feel the need to cut…it gnaws at me and destroys me from the inside out. I end up pacing and biting my lip, digging my fingernails into any soft area of skin. Finally I give in…
I feel a flood of relief as the blade digs deep into my skin. The sight of my own blood comforts me in a way I never thought imaginable. I wince slightly at the pain, but mostly feel relieved.
Generally I regret the new cut on my body that will soon scar over and remind me of my past, just like all the others. I do feel better about whatever made me cut in the first place, but I regret the cut itself.