The blade said "Surgical Steel" though I can't imagine what sort of surgery you would perform with this item of brutal beauty. Another look down at the bleeding ankle in front of me clarified that position. Why an ankle you ask? Well I'm not looking for attention you see, I don't want you to notice and I don't want you to care, this is for me, for my benefit shall we say. Though it is amazing, how those bold red lines of pain and frustration can mark so many a beautiful forearms and go unnoticed till screaming for attention they are thrust in your face. I don't need that though, i always look at the obvious places, the arms, the wrist, the lines of the palms (another personal favorite of mine). Why would I look for these grotesque marks? Why would I care? It's who I am, it's not my job, but I've almost made it such, because to stop one cut is to help them get one bit closer to stopping. I always lose myself in thought when I'm like this with the blade loosely hanging from my fingertips and only one or two dotted lines running across the oddly white skin. A quick shake of a head and a quick breath, and back to work, no designs, nothing fancy, only enough so that you could see white, that hurts just enough and bleeds just right. A few quick minutes later the deed is done and it's time to tend to what I've done. Nothing quite feels like dousing the cuts in rubbing alcohol, the sting is in some ways worse than the actual cutting because it lingers, but then after that all the fun is gone, it's just the process of healing so that, another day, another mood, can cause it all to happen again.

A bit of an exerpt of how I used to be and whatnot. I dunno, just got inspired to write it so i did.

i used to cut too, for a brief period of time. i used to use a compass point and rip it through the skin. it used to stop me from crying about things i couldn't control, and make the whole thing clearer. it was my secret and made me feel closer to myself.

then i realised that writing is much the same, but less painful, and you actually have something worthwhile in the end, instead of ugly scabs that make you cringe at your own twisted logic.

creativity whoops the ass of cutting, but your words do it justice.

the sting is in some ways worse than the actual cutting because it lingers

i like the whole thing, although that peice seems to break the flow a little bit, i didn't know if that was your goal. great though!