Burning poem

Scolding metal against my skin
I press harder the more it hurts
Wince as I let the pain sink in
I grab one of my blood stained shirts

Dampen the cloth with some water
The coolness soothes my damaged flesh
The stove top has gotten hotter
A burner hits some skin that's fresh

Stuck in a loop of self touture
My only method of release
I like the pain, don't want a cure
I want to die, to rest in peace

She doesn't like what I do but
There's no way that I will be turned
She said I could no longer cut
She doesn't know my skin is burned