A river of blood flows down my arm, The sweet pain setting off like an alarm. The guilt tugs at my heart, Self-control falling apart. Looking into the mirror to see the devil smiling back at me, Walls stained by the red sea. The knife paints my skin like a canvas, Each cut, the blade grows anxious. Every scar screaming, Pool of tears in my eyes brimming. Chained to this ritual night after night, Scars telling a story I long to rewrite. Seeking redemption in the crimson flow, But my soul holds the pain and won't let go. Each cut a fleeting relief, This cycle only deepens my grief.