(no subject)
The incision was made in the fatty portion of her left forearm. A gleaming knife smiled upon her skin, raking the flesh along its eager teeth as it passed over. Wine-red blood bubbled out of the fresh wound to meet her, and then trickled down her arm, clinging to each hair follicle before dripping onto the bathroom tile. The blood was eager to depart from her body it seemed... she felt obligated to bid each droplette of blood a silent goodbye as a new pain passed over her body in waves--ironically subdued. She imagined that it was this very blood that passed through her heart as it broke last night, and with a swift pass of the knife, she would rid herself of that pain... temporarily.