Old-born

Graphic

Pulling the brand new razor out the pocket of my black purse I smile and wince as it slices deep through my index finger, knowing exactly what to do with the ongoing blood pour i vilely grin. Walking towards the park, finger dripping, I see our last perfect moment before the worry began. I write his name with my bleeding finger whispering each letter I make...J...^....^...^...^- i...m-s...o...r...r...y

Oh sweetie i truly am but I had to do it...you broke your promise...

Each slice deeper and longer watching for the redness to seep up before i carefully lick it away, cold metallic blood fills my empty stomach and i smile. I will not die...but i will show them all who i am on the inside...for there is only one who has truly seen the scars that cut through everything but my heart, because he is my heart mi armor my fallen shadow...yet not really, because this is my fantasy world how do we know if any of it is true, as I look back on this little excerpt and I see that many people (to me) have read it and I'm not sure what I'm doing, trying to tell my life to a million strangers why would I? why should I? isn't it ridiculous how we live our life? telling ourselves and others we don't care what they think of us but really on the inside we do so what am I really trying to say in all these useless broken up stories? I am a complicated bi polar slightly insane and depressed but really happy girl