Bloody Butterflies

• TW - a short story about self-harm •

Right now, Posie Gray pretended that this was recovery. Right now, sleeping was the only thing that she did with her free time. And every time that she skipped a meal, she would call it "self care" because merely eating was so taxing. She pretended that she still enjoyed to paint, that she still enjoyed all the same things that she used to. She thought that she would pretend that the familiar bleeding lines never happened.

And while she rarely understood what to do or what steps to take, when she succumbed to the monster under her bed, she knew exactly where to go and exactly what to do.