Little Red Dots(Poem)

Hey, that’s weird
That thing you’re doing
Pricking yourself down to ruin
Not ruin you, no of course not
But the carpet & the floor
It’s filled with little red dots

Hey that’s painful
That place you’re slicing
Your arm isn’t made for that kind of dicing
You should really really stop
It’s making me sick
Those little red dots

Hey, is it good?
That seems appealing
I know all those emotions that you’re feeling
Does it make them fade?
That little switchblade
Maybe I…should make you stop
I’ll take that blade
But…now my carpet
Has little red dots