Mad About Red

My insides are screaming at me from a deeper place. With a more primal need than the rest. My demon. My beautiful demons of pain. A pain so rough, a pain so tough, that I cannot say anything at the end of this love affair with the blade except, "I am alive." Dripping, dropping, sploshing, splashing little pools of red. That seep from my veins at night. My very own lifeblood. Collecting like fog upon the floor. My own little ocean of sanity. Oh, but I cannot have my little pools of sanity. Not anymore. Wicked health has supposedly sunk deeply into my bones and "cured me" of my sinful ways. My madness. My malice. My anger. My past. The pills didn't fill me up to make me well. The doctor couldn't dissect my thoughts good enough to tell me what was wrong. My eating disorder couldn't make me beautiful. My addictions couldn't cure me. But this addiction - oh it's so sweet. When it begins to burn so beautifully at the core of my brain. At the base, eating my stem alive, infecting me with it's potent venom. Like a spider bite from a brown recluse. Infection is sure to follow and then the putrefaction and mushiness of dying flesh. My sanity - dying more and more and more. But God it's so beautiful. Purple sky. Cotton dreams. Lost. Oh so lost. Like a hit from a candy colored cocktail of pills. Drowning me in it's silky smooth grasp. Just one cut. One deeply placed slice. I just need one. But then again, maybe two....hell let's make it a hundred! Cut and saw away my arms and legs and soul. Just carve it out because I don't need it anymore. Bleed from me you ugly wasteland of things I find despicable. I hate you. I hate you more than I hate myself. But wait - you are myself. Ha ha! Damn hormones have made me a little cuckoo tonight. PMS - such a bitch! Hahahaha!!!