cuts

shhhhhh

I sat there crying against the wall in front of Taylor. He immediately sat up and looked around, then, directing his attention to me. "Really? Come here." He calmly said.

Once we got to the bathroom he looked at my wrists and the left one looked like i had stuck my arm in a bucket of razors, but none of them were too deep. The right arm wasn't as bad though. He looked at me sadly, then kissed my tears away.

"I-Im sorry." He continued to dab my wounds with a wet cloth. "Shhhhhhhhh" He hushed me. I looked him in the eyes and by his look, I knew he wanted to tell me something. "what?" He looked up. I wiped my tears. "What? What do you want to tell me." He looked around as if he were looking for someone. "look."

He pulled his sleeve. "I understand." There were scars and dark marks all up and down his arm. I gently touched them."wh- why? When?" He looked at me directly in the eyes. His were beautiful. "How does it feel? Do you constantly want to be with me; to watch me? O-or do you feel the need to be by my side all the time?" I knew that he was implying that this is how he feels.

"What?" He looked at me. "I haven't been forcing you to stop because I know it's hard. I only know that you will eventually." I felt my eyes flooding.

"Okay." Was all I managed to choke out. He smiled and embraced me once again, laying down and falling asleep.He pushed his sleeve back down. He then wrapped me in a bandage and stuck out his hand. I turned around and rummaged through my drawer. I pulled out a bunch of razors. From pencil sharpeners, shover razors, and small glass shards.

He cupped both of his hands as I put the sharp things in them. He flinched then, threw them in a bag, wrapping the trash bag in another. Then, throwing them in the garbage. "You?" he closed his eyes."shhhhhh"