I’m sitting here in my room, lights off, shades closed, sitting with my knees to my chest, leaning against the bed, Tears pouring, gliding down my cheeks. I just cut my wrist with a pair of scissors; these scissors have penetrated my wrists so many times. Opened so many wounds, too many to count.
Wounds for a constant pain. A pain that keeps asking for more.
I wish I never started this addicting habit. I remember that one day... It was beautiful outside. Blue sky, green green grass, the wind blowing the tree in front of my window... I was almost 14...
I wish I never started this addicting habit. I remember that one day... It was beautiful outside. Blue sky, green green grass, the wind blowing the tree in front of my window... I was almost 14...
I have my best friend; she’s always going to be there for me… But what do I do when she starts cutting. What do I do when her mother or boyfriend won’t allow me to be around her? Give her what I would have wanted. But how can I? With so many things and people in the way.
