Beautifully broken

Dark clouded thoughts.
Deep foggy mind.
Should I do it? I have no reason not too. Everything becomes clearer with every breathing second. MY mind has been made up with great certainty. I grip the cool metal blade.The same blade that has been through all my pain, struggle, and loss. The same blade that I have used in all of my dreams. My only dream that I've had for six years. The dream that brings more comfort that terror, that brings more relief than easing tension often left afterwards when I wake up.
Im in my dream again, standing motionless in front of the third mirror in the girls restroom on the tenth grade floor. And when I look into that mirror, that shattered mirror where all anger had escaped earlier, I see not myself, but rather a monster staring coldly at me with no emotion except for what seems to be a very numb feeling of hatred towards its self.
I seem to become the centered object in my dream, and before time has even ticked its clock, the monster and I meet up in sync, as one individual, and the metallic blade is ever so beautifully, cutting swiftly through the delicate skin, leaving its mark so punctured, and I drop the sharp blade, it making a tenuous clanging sound as it falls into the sink inches below me. I grip the wound on my open neck, the bright red blood gushing from under, and k, I seem to seep out of my own body, as I feel my unconscious self hit the cold hard floor, and hit my head on the corner of the second sink, just seconds before. I feel very staggered breathing before all stops. Its over.

And suddenly, this isn't my dream as I look deeply into the mirror with no fear. I take a very deep breath. No. I raise the blade above my chest and to my neck.This is reality.