(no subject)
I wanna cut. I want it. It's like the only way to let the bursting out is blood and I wanna cut. I want blood. I want slicing and adrenaline rush and soreness when I shower and scars. I want it so, so badly and then I think things, like how
The person I promised I wouldn't cut anymore for hasn't spoken to me in years and didn't recognize me when we saw each other last, and how good it feels and how it's the only way to fix the bursting-ness and how someone I'm closer to now--we changed together in gym class, all the time, and how they care now about how I am but when my whole torso was a mess of scabs, they didn't see. And how good it feels, again, because god it's the only way I've ever gotten high but god it works well, and even if I don't have the guts to stab myself in the chest or the stomach and just die already there's at least this, and I can feel it, and it hurts but it doesn't hurt and it's good.
I want it and it's really hard to stop.
The person I promised I wouldn't cut anymore for hasn't spoken to me in years and didn't recognize me when we saw each other last, and how good it feels and how it's the only way to fix the bursting-ness and how someone I'm closer to now--we changed together in gym class, all the time, and how they care now about how I am but when my whole torso was a mess of scabs, they didn't see. And how good it feels, again, because god it's the only way I've ever gotten high but god it works well, and even if I don't have the guts to stab myself in the chest or the stomach and just die already there's at least this, and I can feel it, and it hurts but it doesn't hurt and it's good.
I want it and it's really hard to stop.