I watch and clench my teeth a little every time, but I can't let myself stop or it will all be over.
As long as there is this, then there is something more than nothing.
The stinging starts to dull as the numbness sets in, all the while the page stays just as sharp as it was yesterday morning when I began this age old process of my own making.
Back and forth the cut grows wider and deeper.
Hardly any blood shows itself on the surface but I can see what looks like tiny ball shaped shards of glass at the edges of the canyons in my skin.
They almost gather together to create something new, just at the point where they fall into the pendulum motion of the sharp white page.
And I begin again.