This all makes perfect sense
My nail polish is wearing off. I look like a hobo that used to be really pretty.
Except, really, I never was pretty, but the way I set my eyes makes people think I had something to loose in the first place.
Isn't that nice?
It's hot, really really hot.
The fact that it's hot makes leave my arms bare.
That makes me show off my scars.
And that, ladies and gentlemans, that reminds me yet again, that indeed even if anyone cares, no one notices.
But hey,
Isn't life grand? Isn't life inspirational? Don't you feel like you can just fucking fly every time you breathe in?
I can't even begin to blame myself for looking back on those days, those days when it was just me and my tiny little blade.
Those were the days.... I remember calling her my only friend. She was always there.
My little Grey.
But I'm scared of tiny Grey now. I can't bring myself to use her again.
I'm sorry Grey
But don't you dare even think that I forgot our time together!
My skin screaming for your touch and my hand trembling with both fear and antecipation. The way the first second always hurt, but then you dragged yourself along my skin, made it almost okay (even though my eyes were closed shut).
Do you remember that day Grey? When I was feeling like shit and everyone was so fucking happy?
Do you remember how I ran to the bathroom and closed the door? How I desperatly grabbed you from my pencil case??? How I was so releaved in a sickening way when I saw red. Tine little circles of red around the fine line.
I wasn't shaking! I really wasn't....
I wasn't crying either.
And it didn't matter the tiniest bit that I could still hear everyone laughing, because the bathroom was just 10 feet away from them.
I miss you Grey. I'm sorry I'm not brave enough to use you again.
Hi, my name is Fucked Up.
What's yours?