Torture whore,
wanting more,
on your knees for pain.
Begging for the scars in skin,
you think your life's to blame.
You search for ways to hurt yourself,
masochistically insane.
Contusions give you little chills,
your bruising your own name.
Theres no way out or so it seems,
to beat yourself to death.
When all else fails you close your eyes,
and scream beneath your breath.
Pain to you is the best way out,
just force away the sorrow.
Live to hurt another day,
just waiting for tomorrow.

saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/torture-whore/