Cut.

I hear them whisper about her,
I hope I am not the 'her.'
In the meadows and the heartbreak,
I find my salvation by a cut.
A one and a two and a three,
Closed eyes, deep breath and a cut.
Start was a bit too difficult,
But practice made it on tips.
Just enough to shift the pain,
Not enough to kill.
Not too deep, not too shallow,
 A cut on the correct vein.
Bleed and bleed and stop,
The heart survives another day.
Bleed and bleed and stop,
The body gets drier each day.
Tears drip sore,
The solitude lost in the soul,
The way of finding relief,
The one where I bleed,
Is too weird that salvation,
Is only found when I cut?
A four and a five and a six,
Deep breath and another slit.
It was never this easy,
Even sore tears no longer drip.
Not too deep, not too shallow,
A cut on the correct vein,
Bleed and bleed and stop,
Still not enough to kill.
I see the crowd, I hear them whisper,
I smile and greet, hypocrisy made me gentle.
Told them of the hypothetical situation,
A happy world and the fairytale dreams.
So efficient in hiding the sorrows,
Nobody gets a bit of hint.
A seven and an eight and a nine,
Too much to bear, too much to handle.
Relief- Relief, I cut to find,
Pain- Pain, is all I bring.
A ten,
I finally call out.
The knife indulges deeper,
Deeper and deeper, never too shallow.
On the correct vein,
slaughtering the wrist,
I breathe out relief,
I make the final way.
From cuts and cuts,
To scars and scars.