Criss-Cross

One.

*Sigh*

Two;

Breath finally released.

Perfect criss-crosses;

Blood dripping on my feet.

I'm feeling kinda woozy

At least I'm feeling no pain

Well,

Maybe a little faint.

Crazy me.

What have I done?!

Drip to drop.

Drop to drip.

What havve I done?!

What is it?

there is something I cannot remeber.

Why I felt the need to do this?

To release pain,

By making it?

Everytime I do this,

I risk an infection,

Justto feel,

A woozy perfection.

I feel like a failure.

So very useless.

But I refuse to fail this time.

Washing away the woozy blood perfume,

Leaving only behind,

The pink criss-crosses,

On my skin.