The numbers grow. First there where 3, now there are 5. Tomarrow there will be 8. Each day I wish to stop, but things get worse and worse. with no one to tell your problems to I mus rely on other resources. 1,2,3,4,5 slits across my left wrist. Why doesn’t she love me… 6,7,8… I… Continue reading Slits

Last time…for now

I’ve cried myself to sleep. It’s starting to hurt deep inside. Everything of yours I keep. I feel like I’m dying. You’re always mad at me and now I’m sad.