I'm not entirely sure anymore if I do it for release. I need more comfort than anything else. I need the familiar feelings and the sleepy serenity. I need the warmth and the cold and the burning and the sharp sting. I need the tug of flesh and the cold blade. I like the color. I like how I bleed. I like the way I can hurt myself more than others can. The way it feels when doing the right thing is the worst thing to do. When thoughts mean nothing...
I need serenity.