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It's a funny feeling you get, watching blood mix with the water streaming down from a shower head. Watching it drip down your arm, mixing with the pools of water on the floor of the bath. Calming. Peaceful. It's almost like all of the heartache, all of the pain and suffering, along with worthlessness, is being washed down the drain. At least for the time being. Amusement clouds your mind, watching it all, before grabbing a dark colored washcloth -dark, so the crimson won't show up as much- and press it against self-inflicted wounds, made with a silver razor. The cuts, like always, are well placed. On the shoulder, easy enough to hide with sho

Hello, everyone who reads this. Or no one. I don't really care anymore. It's getting so hard to make myself care. I know, that's horrible. But I just can't deal with it anymore. Today was ... terrible. Well, the farm was good. Great, really. Perfect! -sigh- But than I had to go to a graduation party. Some friends and I all graduated this year. Some from elementary school, others from college and so on. Wanna know what's even better? All church people! Don't get me wrong, I love God and everything ... but they just weren't the people I wanted to see, considering I was tired and just wanted to be in my room, alone. Also, I knew there would be f

Eyes were closed, trying to resist the smells floating into her room from the kitchen. Already, my heart was hammering. My breathing was choppy, distorted. And my body kept trembling, making it near impossible to type. Already, my stomach was churning. Just thinking about all that food! Life giving, fat-filled, ugly. I hated all of it, every single substance known as food. But at the same time, I craved it. But I didn't want it. Did I? Who was controlling who when it came to food? Was I controlling myself? Or was I being controlled? What the fuck should I do? Eyes opened, stinging with wetness, at the sound of my bedroom door opening. Distant

I was getting yelled at, again, for nothing. I did nothing wrong! Why am i hated? What can I do to get on her good side again? That's what I was thinking and i just wanted to cry. every face I saw was an enemy, every voice I heard was mocking me. I kept feeling my pulse ... the only thing keeping me alive, at this point. Each beat a reminder of everything wrong I did, each breath - I wished it was my last. Eventually, the hurt just got to be to much. Everything was a blur as I headed to the bathroom. Nothing was abnormal about this. I always took a shower after school. I made sure the water was warm, almost to warm. Don't know why, but it was