Utter Destruction of the Human Soul
Nails dig into palms, teeth clench, muscles tighten and the urge to lash out and scar seems a terrifingly wonderful fantasy. With each throw of the fist another shard falls from the mirrored glass and shredded images of myself surround me, lying at my feet. As I clean up the blood, sweep away the mess and step out of the private session of self destruction briskly; I silently tell myself, "Just a moment of dramatizing silly little emotions... it will pass, no need to mention. Move on and it will soon be over.
I once thought I was an exception.
I once thought I was an exception.