sewn into my wrists like the jeans I had when I was little. The pain from ripping them out is the worst, sweetest pain I have ever felt as if it sets off all of the triggers in my brain and wakes me from a deep slumber that I haven't experienced. I cannot deal with the pain only once, but feel the need to experience over and over. It's addicting. The tiny prick of the needle, the grotesque stinging as the thread is dragged through my skin. The look of the thread, white at first, red once it comes out. I love it.
I was always a cutter. But this is a whole new kind of pain, a whole new type of satisfaction.
When I rip these out, it makes a tiny pop sound. The breaking sound of my skin being ripped apart. Oh god, it's so good.
The best parts about all this? It's not as messy as cutting. It feels better. Gives me more time, more ability to concentrate because now I don't have to worry about cleaning up a pool of blood. The thread soaks up most of the blood.
I'll be at this for a while.
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