warning this may be a sensitive topic to some. this contain self harm
now on to the blog

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dancing blade

In quiet rooms, when shadows fall,
I feel the blade’s familiar call.
It whispers close, a gentle friend,
A way to feel, a way to mend.

The silver gleams in the darkened light,
A dance I know in the dead of night.
Each line it carves, a hidden song,
Of pain, of loss, where I belong.

It's not for death, not quite for pain,
But a moment where I feel again.
The ache inside turns into art,
As the blade sketches out my heart.

I know it’s wrong, I know it’s deep,
But these are scars my soul must keep.
For every dance, a fleeting calm—
A fragile peace, a quiet balm.

One day, I’ll lay the blade to rest,
Find other ways to feel, to test.
But for now, it’s me and steel’s soft shade,
Bound together in this silent waltz we've made.