12.19.12

one time i was sitting backstage

cutting

and i almost missed my cue.

that was a low point.

i walked out on stage with blood running down my leg

under my pants

it stained my jeans

and my purple socks,

but no one noticed,

and i washed it out later.

that wasn't my lowest point though.

no, that was when

i tried to think of a way to kill myself

with a blade of grass, because

grass was the only thing around me

and i was choking on self-hate.

i couldn't breathe, bent over,

clutching my sides, heaving.

i was outside in the middle of class.

i went back in and pretended nothing had happened

and that i was perfectly fine.

still, i'm ashamed that

i've cut in a theatre.