Also, let me clarify for those of you who know I'm non binary, these poems were before I was non binary, so there's 'she and her' in it.

She has done it again

But this time

Deeper

Darker

Hungrier.

This happens nightly

Alone, she sits

Dragging that god damn addictive drug

Against her, used to be, polished skin

She doesn't care, though.

Never has

She sees it like painting

Drags silver against tan, and getting crimson

The beautiful glimmering crimson

She always craves to see it.

She can never get enough of it

She loves the feeling it brings

The relief

The few seconds of pure joy.

But when it fades

She does it again

Leaving her arm stained

Does she ever care to stop?

No

She has no one

No one cares to ever see her stop, either

So, she continues

Until she has no crimson left.