A stinging sensation. Sweet as sugar, but bitter as herbs, all at the same time. Strange how the little things can count so much. Adding up until insanity or death are the only ways out. Silver like the waning moon, the blade glows with an almost comforting aura. Yes, comfort to take the pain away with more pain, to fight fire with fire. But miraculously, the next day, all is right, and few can see through the façade. Those, who do, leave it be. They don't understand, or do they? To hope it will all go away, a mere fantasy, only to return to the same old ritual for relief. The handle gripped in my palm, shining grey steel to soft tanned flesh, then gleaming crimson down my arm. Mmm…the slicing agony, so much like the agony of life, only self-inflicted. Others see a happy girl, sardonic to a fault and intelligent to a special level. If only they knew the demons that hide within, and the evil that lurks at hand. I can smell it, my own flowing life force draining away. Such an enticing scent, bringing so many thoughts to mind. It feels good, oh so good, as my

strength is slipping away little by little, yet it is the same thing that gives me strength to face the next day. So confusing, so little time, the dawn approaches. Just slash, slash, slash it all away. Hn, no one understands. Haha, if they only knew, if they only knew! If they only knew…the blood of the not-so-innocent.

AN: Disturbing? Freaky? Psychotic? Do I look like I give a fuck!? Flame all ya damn want! I know I got issues! I've tried to get help (more like forced to), but counselors don't know shit! *takes a deep breath* If you're curious, this is all a true story about my life. I've been through depression for a while and I'm just coming out of it, but it feels so much easier just to slip back under. No one seems to understand…