An Addicting Way

Sometimes I spiral,
So deep into myself,
That the only way out
Is with the razor.
It loves me,
Makes me feel,
Brings me shaking back to reality,
Helps me deal.

I try to explain,
But you just don't understand,
Why the razor I hold in my hand
Is a release,
A feeling,
A control,
Not a means to an end,
But an addicting way to not fall.

Sometimes I plummet,
So far down,
That my only way up
Is with that cold, silver blade.
It calls to me,
Makes me cry,
Cuts into my skin,
Makes it easier to try.

I try to make you understand,
But you just don't get
That the blade I hold so tightly
Is part of my reality,
A curse,
An addiction,
Not a means to an end,
But an addicting way to not fall.

Sometimes I cry,
So long into the night,
That the only way I can stop
Is that razor,
The one I need,
My only way out,
My everything.

I try to let you in,
But nothing I can say
Could make you comprehend
Just why I need to slice myself,
But it's a way to feel,
It's hard to tell you this,
But the cuts make me real.

Sometimes I just want to feel,
So much so suddenly,
That the only way I can
Is to drag that razor,
Or dig those blades
Across my skin.

I try to show you,
I try to let you know,
Just why I need to cut,
But it's an addiction,
Something I need,
Like having to eat,
Sleep
Drink,
Breathe.
Like having to be with you.
It's not a suicide attempt,
It's a way to feel,
To know I belong...
Not a means to an end...
But an addicting way to not fall.