Ok this is my little story type thing...it contains thoughts of suicide and cutting...Its not really a story though...kinda like a memory.....but with thoughts and...yeah just read the damn thing....
I cant do this without them ,
I am so weak, I am ashamed of my weakness.
It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
I clutch the knife, my savior, in my hand,
So tightly that it digs into my pale skin.
"I need this!" my mind shouts,
But my heart is doubtful and full of guilt at what I am doing,
It affects those I love as well.
But the need of my tormented mind wins out again.
I feel the tears sting my eyes in pity for my own weakness
as memories of the better days flood before my mind.
My lower lip trembles as the blade digs into the tender flesh of my wrist.
The pain reminds me that I am still human,
that I am still alive.
I know that my friends don't understand,
and I can't really give them a direct answer when I don't
even have one for myself.
The blood has bubbled over and is sliding down my arm to greet the floor below.
I smile slightly as a tear makes its way down my face.
"I wish you were here, you always made me feel guilty enough to stop...
god I miss you!" I mumble as I slide the blade deeper into my arm.
I hiss in pain as I cut deeper than I had intended.
The blood is flowing faster, just like my memories
us sitting together at lunch, talking, laughing, being me...
finding out I was leaving and nearly flying into a fit of hysterics.
You were always a constant in my life, besides my hidious apperance
and my depressing nature. With you alone I could somewhat
control my emotional spirals.
I watch as the blood starts to slow, and I cut into my flesh again,
just to watch it bleed...
A sin against nature and society.
I rest my head on the wall as my tears won't stop.
God it hurts so much! I don't know what to do!
I want to... to die but....I don't know if I could bear the weight
of my sinful death, knowing my friends are hurt by this...
I use my bloody hand to wipe away the tears as I shakily stand.
I stair at the blood as it drips silently to the floor.
I sigh as I walk hesitantly to the bathroom to clean my newly made wounds on my flesh
and my heart.
I will continue to live , in fear of hurting those I care about with my death,
a death that would be all to welcomed to me...
Once a sinner always a sinner, I guess...
Maybe i'll even be granted sinners death someday.....maybe...
AN:Ok that was depressing I guess.....I'm used to it though....anyway tell me what you think, if you want...