Coldness in her Heart

**Trigger warning: self harm**

the edge of death
is where
she exists

she is a
picturesque mess
of vitriolic synapses

layers of her flesh
are exposed to
her audience
as she gently
slits
different spots
around her wrist

she wants the worst
from all of it

couldn't imagine
all the inner havoc
that had to happen
for her arms
to be so utterly
scarred like that

not an inch
of her skin
has not been enriched
by her itch
to inflict
the same pain
she obtains
from the pit

nothing to omit,
her art is forever

she carves
immortal words
from the pressure
of her clinical depressors
for pleasure

her addiction
made certain
that any chance
she may get
to cut again
is never missed

so many scars
on her arms
and her wrists

looks like
elephantiasis

so relentless
was the harm
that
scar tissue
is the only tissue
that she has
above her sinew

she detaches sinew
humby flirting
with her doom

how much she bleeds
paying customers decide

hungry inhumanity
linked to a website
designed for the delight
of the cruel

reddened rituals
of heartless motions
to make the blood pools

pressed hard
to suppress
what she endured
to subsist

pressed hard
to get refreshed
by it's kiss

the gift
of precious final
severance
of connections
to this world

her last night
in this world,
she took pictures
of her nerves
hooked to her fingers
as she pulled them
into the light

cuts so deep
they threatened her life

every night she pined
to roll the dice

now everything's alright