The scissors in my hand
She sits in her room
Eyes filled with pain and tears... But that's nothing new.
Her blood is boiling, hands shaking and her heart racing.
She looks at her arm and sees a clean canvas... Looks at it like a recovering drug addict looks at drugs
"should I do it?"... "it's been a while"... "Maybe the pain will go away "
She starts thinking about everything that might go wrong, and how she won't stop.
The thought of doing it again breaks her heart, but the thought of her emotional and mental pain being taken away by her physical pain makes her feel a bit better.
While she cries, she looks around her room for a sharp object, it doesn't matter what... As long as it's sharp.
She sees a pair of scissors, her heart is racing again, she feels the adrenaline kick in.
"should I do it?" " should I not?" at the end of the day I'll feel better. (that's what she thinks)
"the pain will go away, no more crying"
As soon as she grabs the scissors, she starts to remember the last time she was here... And why she was there.
"am I back here again"
"When will it all end"?
The scissors in my hand.