skin
I have never wanted to cut myself as badly as I do now. I don't, and I know I shouldn't. I don't break the skin. I don't leave permanent marks. But I want to. and everything's coming to a hard, bright point. The end of the semester is never a good time for anyone. I just feel that if I could punish myself for all the things that I feel are my fault I'd feel better about them. Oi. Listen to me. I sound like a teen goth writing bad poetry. Oh, the angst. It burns. Heh. I don't mean to be silly. I just feel overwhelmed
by all the things I don't want, that I think I'm trying against, but somehow keep on getting wrapped deeper in. I'm getting lost, and I just can't take my incompetence, my slowness, being sick, not being able, not understanding, and I don't want to cry for help, I don't want people to see cute ropy scratches on my wrists and tiny bandages, I just want to hurt myself and feel it rising out of me, feel like I've actually done something when I seem incapable of simple things, feel the pain pushing me up somewhere better. Like a curved fault line. Carve out my bad spots, like an potato. Penance. Clean myself.
I don't want to kill myself. I haven't broken the skin. I know that at soon as I take a knife to myself I will have a huge, noticable keloid scar that will have my parents speed dialing the looney bin. I won't. But I want to. It's been a bad month.
by all the things I don't want, that I think I'm trying against, but somehow keep on getting wrapped deeper in. I'm getting lost, and I just can't take my incompetence, my slowness, being sick, not being able, not understanding, and I don't want to cry for help, I don't want people to see cute ropy scratches on my wrists and tiny bandages, I just want to hurt myself and feel it rising out of me, feel like I've actually done something when I seem incapable of simple things, feel the pain pushing me up somewhere better. Like a curved fault line. Carve out my bad spots, like an potato. Penance. Clean myself.
I don't want to kill myself. I haven't broken the skin. I know that at soon as I take a knife to myself I will have a huge, noticable keloid scar that will have my parents speed dialing the looney bin. I won't. But I want to. It's been a bad month.