I'm losing blood from the one person should be drawing the blood.. Me. It's a sick twisted feeling that I get every time I feel the sting of the blade carving different things into the skin of my legs
And maybe I want to be free from all of the words that are killing me in my head. Maybe the physical pain masks the emotional pain even if only for a second.
The raised scars and scabs that cover my legs. No short shorts. No bathing suits. No big tee shirts without pants around the people that don't know. The disappointment of ruined skin.
When everything gets bad you are the first thing I turn to. Especially lately with everything going on. I just keep adding to the marks on my skin. The permanent scars from this horrid time. The constant memory of her. They words they've said. It all floods back when I see those marks.
YOU ARE READING
A twisted state of mind
Non-FictionJust some stuff that I've written. A lot of it is self hate. But it's also just how I feel.
