Dear Cutting,

You are my friend... and I am not afraid to admit it. You're here when I am sad; you're here when I am happy; you're here when I am struggling with loneliness. And because you are here with me through my emotions and struggles, I have relied on you. When you're on my mind, you find me, and comfort me through the tough lies of life. You come in many forms; razors, fire, fingernails, nails, tacks, needles. These are all my friend... my comforters when I am weak. You can find me hiding in the dark when I don't want to be found, and you will help me turn my tears in to much-wanted blood. You help turn my pain inside out; from inside to outside. I don't want to feel the sting of tears in my eyes... I don't want to hear much unwanted help in my ears... I don't want to feel the pain of the heart in my chest... I want to feel YOU. I want to feel the wonderful pain of your sharpness against my skin, creating cuts from my soul. You are my alcohol; you are my drug. You numb me from the truth of this world and you help me to fight away what I am too weak to fight away.

"Saying goodbye can be such a sweet sorrow..." A sorrow that I do not want to have to cope with. You are my pain-reliever... my anesthetic when I am hurting. Why would I want to relieve your friendship from off of my heart? Because you hurt. Even though you are here through tough and sad times, you're causing me to be very destructive to myself. When I look at my legs, I see you. When I look at my arms, I see you. When I look at my ankles, I see you. You are carved into every piece of my body... so in a way, you will always be here with me. I will never forget you, but I have to try. I have to try to hide the scars of our friendship into that secretive case in my heart. I need to lock it up, and throw away the key... I need to!

When I look into my eyes through a mirror, I can see your morbid form flicker dangerously beneath the core. You're begging to come out... you're telling me to find you again. I want to... so bad... You're voice becomes so vivid in my mind that I start to believe that you ARE me and that I AM you. We are two, combined into one mutilated body. I am the clean half... you are the bloody half. You are the half that is unwilling to fight... you want to create battle wounds against my skin. I am the half that wants to live the right way. I want to get rid of "the easy way out." I want to get rid of you! You are my companion, the only trustworthy person in my life right now... yet the most deceitful... You cause me to cry. You cause me to smile. You cause my pain. And when I look into a mirror, I see all of these emotions. Stay out of my reflection, friend.

In safe places, you still haunt me. You'll be in my pocket (or in my hand) , begging to come out. You want to come in contact with my skin... at school, in the shower, in the car, in the store... EVERYWHERE. I can't seem to get rid of you... and even if I did find a way to separate myself from you and your ways, I would forever be contained by the urge to find you. All I have to do is pull out my tool... and imbed the feelings into my skin. It is a beautiful art... morbid, but beautiful. Why would I want to rid of such an elegant art?

I need to find a safe place... a safe place away from you. I don't know where to go, where to start or how to begin this process of separation, but I will tell you one thing: I will succeed. I will not fail to lose contact with you and your sinful ways. My tears of blood will be wiped away, and I will find a way to cry tears of purity. MARK MY WORDS, I WILL SUCCEED.

Love Forever Yet Nevermore,

Vesta