I Cut for Me
**Trigger warning: Self-harm**
When I cut just right it feels like adrenaline and sex.
Like sex that hurts so precisely it frees you with an electric jolt of red release and lifts your burdens by ripping you raw. It singes with each inhale. Swollen, sore, tingling. Seductive pulsing, painful pleasure. Gasping red rivers it feels so good to ache this way. My body is ready to brim and break with rushing waves of lustful pain. Please pierce me until I see it puddle through my hungry, straining-to-stay-open lids.
I plead to stay lost in the wound and forget the body that fights to bring me back. I want my scissors to stay stuck in my skin so I can ignore that I exist as an everyday body chock-full of feelings and memories that make me fat and heavy. Replace with seething sensations, bruised thighs, red on the mattress, angry and full of awe.
Forceful punctures I am on the cusp of too much. And I don’t care. Slit skin revealing the red elation I can make. Sometimes too red, sometimes not enough when my carefully carved cut closes too soon.
I taste my own metallic excitement and the shock of it all is so decadent and obscene and overwhelming it makes me sigh with ecstatic surprise and bite my lip thirsty for softness and salt. It is an all too perfect pain that winks a sultry nod as I design yet another erotic slash that promises to drip just for me. I lay beautiful, powerful, and bleeding. If I masturbate just right it feels like seams snapping apart and it smells like blood and I see my own heavy breath exhaling in an insatiable hurry. Racing against the clots.
I no longer self-harm.
But there are times that I can’t help but think about and crave the clarity that comes with cutting so deeply your soul has no choice but to spark.
Nothing wakes you quite like the miracle of making yourself bleed.
The awe from the incision.
The discipline of s l o w l y pulling skin apart — like peeling paper off a present — which with too much reckless excitement threatens to leave you exposed.
I can’t deny my appetite for earning yet another slice of secret.
But I resist.
It’s the right thing to do.
