Train Tracks

i see it glittering in my hand sunlight reflecting off the sharpened edge what brought me to do such a thing my best friend, a tiny sliver of metal, controls my mind. it makes my stomach twist and my head ache as it makes train tracks of blood up and down my arm. it's a cruel fascination, a deadly habit- wanting to see red droplets ooze from my arm and edge their way towards my elbow. a habit that gets worse every time my friend touches my skin. deeper, harder. i want to see what will happen if Mr sharpy and i get into a fight. i lose all sanity, my resolve disappears. nothing is left but i, my friend ( the tiny sliver of metal) and the train tracks made of blood.