Lets go a little older and darker..

Come out, come out, wherever you are..

Where is the Old me?

The one who was sweet and

Free.

The me that could

Actually stand up for herself

During a spat.

Maybe, she's been shoved

Down

Down

Into the darkness.

Maybe the new, scary me has been

someone who was dying to get out.

Should I put away the

Razor?

Or make a new wound to have to

Heal?

Should I push away,

Or more pretending?

Maybe Hallie and I are scarily alike.

Self harm.

Depression.

The cutting is getting worse.

I might do it tomorrow,

I might have done it yesterday.

I might do it right now.