Writing In Permanent, Crimson Ink

Why does it help me?
Scratching razor through flesh?
Sketching intricate pictures
Sometimes lots, sometimes less
On clean sheets of skin

Why do I smile?
When I finally find
A clean patch to ruin
While I’m out of my mind?
Feeling like I’m bleeding from inside
And trying to match
My outside with it
And telling myself there isn’t a catch

Why can’t I stop this?
Why do I always need it so?
Is there noting better?
Must I really sink this low?

Please, help me
To stop bloodshed amass
For everyone like me
Just let our sorrow pass

Forget world peace
Let’s stop violence at home
In the bedroom or bathroom
With a secret, dangerous tome
That tells you dark riddles
Of unjust release of pain