The memory of the razor slicing my skin fills my head.
My skin itching for the sharp edgeness of the razor.
For the cool wet feeling of blood ozzing out of me.
I grab the razor.
Slicing my skin.
But this time deep making sure to cut my main artery.
The blood is dripping fast from the wound.
I feel it dry up and then new wetness comes.
My mind wonders off.
My eyes rolls to the back of my head.
A small smile tries to grow on my lips.
Finally I thought
Finally I'm in my happy place.
