Craving
The cravings are driving her mad.
The crawling sensation beneath her skin.
She can trace the path on her arm.
The path the blade would make.
Insanity is closing in on her “stable” mind.
It is a wonder her lip is not broken, with how hard she bites it.
Bruises arise from the bands she snaps against her skin.
Nothing works.
She will lose control.
