I curl up in the corner knife clutched in my hand,

Can't leave it behind like my footprints in the sand,

The black cloud inside swells and grows,

My head aches and my fingers close,

Placing the blade on my leg I press down with my palm,

I pull the blade out quickly, I know this is self harm,

I see a cut line, in a moment blood appears,

I only feel the blade, a little pain, but no tears,

The second one is easier, the third and fourth are too,

Continuing the pattern 'til there are more than just a few,

I wipe away the blood, then I clean the knife,

My thoughts on the painless burning, instead of on my life,

I run my fingers over the lines, I finally feel again,

After all, it's not like I do it everyday, only now and then.

A/N: Right, so it needs a lot of work but I guess thats why I post it here. I would love some concrit.