A new day, a new problem. How does anyone expect me to continue day after day? Wrote some poetry and tucking cut myself again. Why am I such a bitch? Despite what everyone thinks, I'm not fine, not getting better, hell, I carved the words "its not bad" into my thigh because I didn't think cutting was bad. Its the only tie I have to reality ; the only sign I'm real, and you want me to tale meds that make me numb? That make me not feel it? The pain is my savior, so just fuck off. You're not helping, you're making it worse. I cant believe it's come to this. Why is my like so frickin messed up!?
Sorry bout the swearing and the psycho rant; I must seem insane to you now. Well, whatever cause people already think I'm insane because of what I do. Is it too much to ask for someone to kill me? Cause there s nothing worth living for anymore. Anyway, until tomorrow.
~Lost Soul
YOU ARE READING
The Life of a Cutter
Non-FictionHey guys. This is my story, mature for language and sensitive trigger topics and the like; don't like don't read. Please, don't let yourself go down this road, because there is no going back. It's not too late to get help. Hopefully my day to day li...
