Blood trickles down the skin. For a moment pain deep with-in is no more. My soul cries for more trickling. The sharpness of the blade is numb. The blood is not enough as the pain with-in returns. Deeper the blade goes, still not enough. I cut more to cover the sins of my own, and the sins that were done unto me, but only the skin and floor is covered. Inward bleeds too much. Outward bleeds not enough. What will cover all the sin and pain? Deep with-in my soul knows the answer. Only the truth will not prevail. There was only one sacrifice to cover all. Does He live with-in? If so, why do I do such a thing? Blood brings a high as if it were a drug. The addiction of pain has a strong hold. No one understands. So, I wallow in this pool of blood and tears. I wanting attention is the accusations spread about. This is far from the truth. If it were so, the outward scars would be shown. Has this been clear to the understanding of the mind that hasn’t been here?