Sometimes at night I can’t sleep. I run my fingers over the delicate braille of cuts and scars. I can read my wrists like a diary written in blood. I read of unshed tears and angry slashes, of the small sound skin makes as it splits, of the dark blood that wells up after and of the curious lack of pain. I can read of being alone, unloved, misunderstood, of having worn a mask for so long I’ve forgotten how to take it off. Seven years of child abuse has taught me how to deal with physical pain; it’s the emotional pain I can’t take. So slowly I turn my hurt to cuts, lining the soft skin of my arms with entries in a journal I never meant to write.
"As we grow up, we learn that the one person who isn't supposed to let you down, probably will, and the one person that you never thought would be there for you, is. You're going to have fights with your friends, you're going to lose some of your friends, you may even fall in love with one of your friends. You will eventually lose someone you love, and love someone you never thought you'd find. People are going to hate you, love you, love to hate you, and hate to love you. But the ones who mean the most to you will always be there." Sex and The City
Comments 459
- Unknown
Reply
Dr. Seuss
Reply
Eleanor Roosevelt
Reply
Sex and The City
Reply
Robert Frost
Reply
Leave a comment