1_21Guns
May 21st, 2009, 02:48 PM
The blade seemed to stare at me from where I kept it. Almost calling me to release the pain, stress and anger that being alive brought me. As the days went on, suppressing the urge became harder and harder.
When I gave in, the blade sliced my skin, causing it to redden and eventually bleed. The tingling sensation that surrounded it gave an indescribable feeling of freedom and relief as adrenaline pumped to block out the pain.
Then for what felt like an age, I watched the blood run away, thinking my troubles were temporarily running with it. Little did I know that the morning after I would glance down at what I had done and want to do nothing but hate myself even more. I covered up what was left, and continued to make the same mistake. It’s an addiction to freedom.
When I gave in, the blade sliced my skin, causing it to redden and eventually bleed. The tingling sensation that surrounded it gave an indescribable feeling of freedom and relief as adrenaline pumped to block out the pain.
Then for what felt like an age, I watched the blood run away, thinking my troubles were temporarily running with it. Little did I know that the morning after I would glance down at what I had done and want to do nothing but hate myself even more. I covered up what was left, and continued to make the same mistake. It’s an addiction to freedom.