Monday, September 21, 2015

Slit.

I wish someone, anyone, would give me a break.
A hug. Something nice. Not pity.
Maybe love.
I've been fighting for so long, and I've failed at everything.

I cut myself tonight. Kitchen knife. Deep. Didn't even bleed.

That frightens me.

If you bleed to see if you are ok, and don't bleed, what does that mean?