Metal Stained Crimson

Contributor~ Amanda Zober
As I look down at the pages in front of me, I can feel the ice cold metal of the blade slide. I see the scars across his hands and the blade slide across marred skin. The pages are filled with his self mutilation, scars from long ago and freshly healed wounds cover his flesh. I stare in shock at the book in front of me, not because of what he was doing, but because of the past that haunts me. The cold metal of a pointed blade slides across my skin, I can feel the blade as if it were truly there. The strong odor of iron fills the air; I can remember the pain and watching as blood flowed through the self-induced slit. I can remember reveling in the pain; enjoying every second of the stinging sensation moving throughout my body. I enjoyed the pain; it was what brought me peace of mind and something as close to a happiness that I’ve never known. I can remember watching as blood pooled around me, the water stinging the wound further; soon the blood stopped and everything was cleaned, the only evidence of what occurred were the scars covering the skin. I remember stopping and the blade disappeared, leaving me only a sick fascination with knives. I’m soon brought back to reality by the feeling of cold metal against my skin; the smell of iron filling the air and crimson pools surrounding me. In a state of unawareness the knife found my hand and the blade found my skin; I smile remembering the joy that my blood being shed gave me. I still feel the blades in my slumber, haunting me till the end of eternity, to never cease this joyous pain that I love.


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