The Tragedy

Who started it?
Was it my mom?
My dad?
My friends?
You?
No, it wasn’t.
It was me.
It was my own twisted thoughts,
Spiraling out of control,
Twisting around each other
Like clumps of drying spaghetti.
Yes, it was all my fault.
Not that I wanted it to end this way.
I expected it to be less painful,
More glamorous.
Like on T.V.
After all,
It is what you all expect me to do.
It was all just a matter of time
Before I did it.
Who ever thought that such a tiny blade
Could cause such a gigantic mess?
A mess that made me curse,
And swear,
And grope for wads of toilet paper
To soak up the drops of crimson
Spilling out from the long gash in my flesh.
At first, it stung.
It felt like thousands of wasps,
All trying to sting the throbbing, swollen, bleeding crevice
At the same time.
Then it went numb,
Like I’m sure it’s supposed to.
And now I’m trapped.
I can’t stop after just one time, oh no.
I’m destined to continue.
Until I’m too old to care anymore.
It is what you all expect me to do.
Now I’ll have to shave my legs
Forever.

A.N. GEE! Yay, that was fun! .