I can't cope with it. Late at night I find myself with a blade, pressed to my skin. Tears drop down my cheeks as I press harder, tearing the sharp metal across the skin of my thigh.
YOU ARE READING
From The Bottom Of My Heart
Short StoryI love you. No you don't, not really. Finished!
5
I can't cope with it. Late at night I find myself with a blade, pressed to my skin. Tears drop down my cheeks as I press harder, tearing the sharp metal across the skin of my thigh.
