The urge to cut

Standing alone, naked and wet in the bathroom
I feel like I am in my own costume
As I look at the scars upon my skin
My world begins to spin

I want to cut to decrease the tension
People may think I am after attention
Why does it have to be that way?
Maybe God will see my tears as I pray

No family in my line of vision
Was that my own decision?
Will god be the only one
In my life from now on

I see a razor sitting on the edge of the sink
My mind goes into a spiral as I begin to think
Maybe just one cut to ease the pain
I promise to myself not to hit a vein

As my right hand goes to grab the razor of the sink
My eyes begin to cry causing me to blink
Causing me to see more clearly as I begin to check
My left hand that grips to the silver cross hanging from my neck

I loosen my grip, dropping the razor to the floor
I go to reach for the black towel hanging from door
Instead I pull back to look at my hands, shaking cold and wet
This battle for my own happiness is not over yet

Slowly reaching for the razor, picking it up, putting it back in its place
Cold, wet tears continue streaming down my own pale face
Shaking cold and wet, I think of the one person that I admire
It is only of that love which I really desire

Without hesitation I grab my towel and wrap it around myself
The soft black cotton towel warm against the skin of oneself
Still wet and cold I begin to dry myself and wipe away my tears
As I wipe away my tears I feel like I am wiping away my fears

Now dry and dressed slightly a bit warmer, I leave the bathroom
Walking up the hallway towards the computers I walk past a broom
I clasp my hands together and at that moment I realize I have cut my finger
At that moment I can feel my own anger