Tonight I have not cut, but, how I long for that fear to be released. The fear of being alone with only my knife to bring me sweet, sweet comfort. How I long to feed my new found addiction and watch the blood pour from my fresh new babies born unto my arms, telling of the fear and anger I feel inside. How I long to tell the world of my pain, to scream like my body does, pain and peacefulness simultaneously combined. The blood is my pain, rejected from my body just like life rejected me. Every time I cut it eases this inner ball of fear and anger and pain until it is replaced by guilt and shame; my secret shame. I fear the pain that brings my secret shame.