-27.04.18_18:46-

Some like to play
But for me
I think about,
The thin, cold edge
Biting deep,
Hot rush pulsing out
Quickly diminishing
In time with
My fleeing consciousness,
Some find a thrill
But I dream of a release
That would cause too many
Pain.

Tags: bipolar life, knife play, poem, Poetry, sex, suicide ideation