(Sorry feeling down at the moment and slightly bored)

One more cut.
I knew it wouldn't be enough to ease my internal pain, a deep sickening pain that tortured me daily, but... Why was I so driven to keep trying?
I stopped for a second closing my eyes fighting tears which were not even there, I was sitting in my bathroom leaning against its grubby walls where grime and the damp moisture clung deep. I felt the hot steam of my bath rising upward and nestling in my hair creating iridescent pearls of vapour. But even though the moisture and heat was soothing my throat was as dry as bones, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and all I could taste was salt.
I knew I should stop, but whenever I saw my blood gently slide down my arm or feel its warmth, I felt even more alive and alert. It was just a sign that I was still here. Not dead and lifeless. But still had the warmth of life flowing through my veins.