Blood's Power

Sketching little symbols deep within my skin trying to numb the pain that's killing my soul within. Slicing a little too deep, I start to see my blood gliding down my arm. I stop this therapeutic activity for a second to examine this red substance that gives me life. Thinking to myself, this thick liquid has quite an important job. It keeps my heat beating; without it, all would stop. All the pain, all the suffering would cease into nothingness, and then maybe I could enjoy a nonexistent bliss.

Picking up my blade again continuing down the engraved pathway across my wrist. Clenching my fists, taking in the pain, holding back the tears, while trying to keep sane. The blood-flow increases. I'm starting to blackout. First seeing ghostly silhouettes then it all shifting to black darkness. I've passed out.

Waking up and noticing the sight of dried blood. Glancing down and seeing a shallow crimson puddle on the floor. I feel queasy, uneasy and my head is light. The room is spinning, my ears are ringing, but I'm still alive...how? Taking a closer look at my newly scarred wrist. Odd how quickly it healed.

All the sudden, the blood and the cuts disappear from my mind's sight. Shaking my head in confusion. Were my cuts on my wrist ever real? Apparently it was just an illusion, just like everything else in my life is.

2008 copyright(C) Lost and Bound in Pain