Cutting Myself

I cut myself for the first time tonight. As the razor cut through, it didn’t feel as bad as I thought it would. I felt the cut, but not the pain. It was like a scratch and nothing more. Why I did it? I was tired of this life. You were always in my way. I wanted to break up with you already, but then schoolwork needed to be done, or org matters, or other personal commitments. Now, I couldn’t take it anymore. I know you don’t want me to do this. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe cutting myself would set me free from you, from us, once and for all, or at least until you grow in me again and your presence becomes inevitable.

I cut myself for the first time tonight. And this is what happened…

No pain. None of you, you always-in-the-way annoyingly short black hair. And it was better for the both of us. Now that you’re out of my head, it can breathe freely once again.

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4 responses to “Cutting Myself

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