Eye's fixed on the image thats craved on my leg
The blood gushing out from every which way.
Pain finally subsiding, breathing once more.
Though I had promised myself that I would cut no more.
But with relif russhing over, and my mind clearing up
I threw away the razor, and began to stand up.
I vowed to myself that no matter what
That cutting will never take part on this body again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem