Solitary crowds

Psychopath (trigger warning)

I hum and hum to block my thoughts out. I'm scratching myself and I will continue scratching until I get a razor to deal with this. Someone asked me today "What does cutting solve". Nothing. It solves absolutely nothing. It is not the answer. But I feel myself slipping away, I feel my sanity drifting far  from me. I can't stop scratching myself. I can't stop humming. The voices are coming back to haunt me. My skin tingles, begging to be cut open. My heart and mind bug me, missing the blood that used to drip from my open wounds.

I remember how it feels too. I remember how warm the blood was when it seeped up from my skin. I remember how it would reflect the light from above. How dark a red it was. It was beautiful and it felt so good to rip open my skin. The pain was only for a moment and then the relief after was incomprehensible.

I can no longer sit still. All I think about is cutting and suicide and pain. It drives me crazy. But I don't have anyone to talk to about it. I don't want to be a burden. They have their own lives and all I ever do is ruin it. I don't want to be a burden anymore. Its all I am, its why my mom tried to abort me but its my fault she didn't.

I'll never forget how she told me before she got an abortion she prayed "Lord please forgive me for killing this baby boy" and she said she heard a small voice from inside her say "But mommy I'm a girl" and she wept for days. Afterwards she decided to keep me.

But I cent help thinking..... I'm, so stupid for saying anything. Had I kept quiet I wouldn't be here. I hate this I hate living.

I hate scratching myself just to keep calm. I hate talking I hate all of it. I miss my razor but that's ok, ill get a new one. But until then ill scratch and scratch and hum and block the voices and when they start consuming me ill fix it with just one or two or five slices. Its okay.