Sin


Sin
My lungs let out a weary sigh,
as I retrieve the blade from its’ hiding spot
and I ask myself “Why?”
I hang my head in shame, knowing I have failed again,
as I turn to my greatest temptation, my favorite sin.

I drag the razor across my skin in thin, even, lines,
watching it split open, as it has done many times.
I wince, and watch as the blood spills in sick glee,
As I admire the cuts in all their beauty.

I tend to the cuts gingerly,
letting out a mirthless chuckle at the irony.
I gag my mouth to keep from screaming,
as the alcohol hurts more than the actual bleeding.

I stitch myself up, hiding the bandages in the trash,
wondering if I was maybe being a bit rash.
Ultimately, this wasn’t the last time,
my attempts to stop have proved as such.
For I could never give up a habit I love so much.

For I try so hard, but I cannot resist.
My greatest temptation, my favorite sin.

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