She runs the blade,
Slowly down her veins.
Lightly tracing over,
Each and everyone.
Trying to decide,
Which one she should pierce first.
Looking for the one,
That most abundant.
The one that will,
Satisfy her taste for pain.
Finding the one,
That will suite her needs.
She applies pressure,
And watches in awe.
Slowly the blood,
Begins to trickle.
She scrutinize the path,
The blood chooces to take.
Asking herself why,
It had taken that route.
She dig the blade deeper,
Savoring each moment.
Feeling overwhelmed,
With the dominion of each motion.
She begans to laugh,
Unable to compose herself.
As the pain deep within her,
slowly dwindles away.
And the blood,
Begans to flow freely.
