Razors, and Scissors, and Blood, oh my!

Sharp objects are my best friend.
I love them more than some of my own "people" friends.
But what can I say, Razors comfort me more than anyone.
How fucked up is that? Honestly.
I have help, I have people to talk to.
But I dont want to get my emotions pried anymore, I dont want my feelings recorded like some little problem to be fixed.
I would like to be left alone.
I dont believe I am asking much?
It isnt hurting anyone, I am not hurting, I am escaping from the shit that has or is hurting me.
Why run and cry? Why tell everyone my problems?
My Razors hear me loud and clear. They get me, they make me feel like everything is gone, and I am alone.
We sit at night and enjoy the beatiful voice of Dax Riggs and we escape.
Mmmm....
Why do it? Well, Why not?
Why ask so many fucking questions? Hmm..?
It just a part of me.
Why take it away when it makes me feel so god damned good?
I swear sometimes this world is so FUCKED UP. But a cutter is more fucked up than anyone? No I am not so sure I believe that bullshit. What about the sick fucks who rape young women and are never convicted? The fuckers who murder and get away with it? At least I am not touching anyone else.
Hell, maybe if I wasnt touched, I would be "normal"
But hey, go ahead and focus on me who is just minding my own god damned business, dont worry about him, he is still out there to fuck up someone elses life, and hey maybe he will let them go easy and just kill them too? Right? Why couldnt he be that nice to me? Why cant I just die and save the world the troubles of another fucked up little girl?