I have no reason to feel so. Healthy friendships, high honors, and happy family Yet as I pick up the kitchen scissors, I never feel guilty. And as it pierces through my skin I find comfort in the pain within Just yesterday, she pleaded with me not to die Not to end a not so miserable life But it's soothing and calming, it's a warm embrace Through my made up pressure that I now must face I watch the blood pour out my skin yet it never is enough. I fall to the ground in nausea yet I can never seem to stop. The kitchen scissors call out to me, begging to be taken And I find myself allured, continuing til I'm broken. It's no longer an outlet for pain in a happy life, but an addiction I don't choose to overcome.