The razor blades call me.

They scream my name over and over. 

They beckon me to come, use them, just one more time.

To let the blood flow, to paint a picture on my skin that will last forever.

They scream at me to let the warm blood cover them.

I bite my lip and cling onto something, hoping, wishing to get away from the addiction

that took over my life.

"Na da hast du ja aber mal ordentlich hingelangt."  

Danach Stille und mein Arzt setzt sich erstmal.