Why?
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Why?, Why can't I feel anything,
No sting of disappointment,
No feeling of shame?
Sure, there’s the numb sting of pain,
But that’s it?
Surely there is more
I've done this so many times before
What's different?
As the numb pain continues
Nothing happens,
I mean why?
Why won’t the blade do anything meaningful?
Sure, you make marks on my flesh
With the red blood running so fresh
But why can’t you just cut deeper?
Deeper, DEEPER…
But as the pain slowly subsided,
The only thing I feel inside is longing,
Longing for more, more than just pathetic cuts or scratches.
I long to feel the pain of one thousand deaths twice over.
I long for Death to take me
To take the little soul I have left,
To take me to hell
Faster than the ringing of Shar's sacred bell
To take me to where I truly belong.
The pain is gone
The silver blade now tarnished red
As I toss and turn in bed.
Lay on my cuts, it feels like daggers in my flesh.
I take a shower to wash away the evidence.
And it burns.
It burns like a mix of fire and shame.
And the only thing I ask myself now is why. . .











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