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TW:string language, self harm, blood
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I want to fucking cut up my leg. Like fucking mutilate it. I want my leg to look like ground beef because of how much I've cut and sliced it. I want to feel the burn of a fresh cut on my skin. I want to wince slightly as I quickly pull the razor across my thigh.

I want to wake up tomorrow and see the newly made cuts, and feel them under my jeans. I want to look at the slightly raised skin as blood slowly trickles out of an almost perfectly straight line.

I want to carve works of encouragement into my arm so that everytime I look down I see "JUST KEEP GOING" in crooked and jarred letters. I want to remind myself that I was once in enough pain I wanted to show it physically. I want proof that I'm actually hurting.

I want physical proof that I'm actually suffering. I want proof that I'm in pain. I want proof that I need to feel better because I'm not better. I want to fucking die and I want proof that that's not a good thing. 

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