And in that moment, I forgot why.
Why was I here? Why was I tracing that blade oh so delicately against my skin? I'm not quite sure why I forgot, but the singing of painful screams coming from my nerves reminded me.
It's the only way I can scream. The only time I feel in control of how I feel. My skin shall scream and cry for me, and my drinks shall help.me through.
Not enough to lose what little of myself is left, but enough to make me feel like I can do something about it.
Not enough for anyone to notice my scars, but enough for me to feel closer to peace, even if it's only during the symphony of blades
