18 June 2012
A pretty cut stings on my arm, The blood runs down along it, I smile and feel like I can finally breathe again.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, exhale, and smile.
The pain is reducing, I love cutting, it makes me feel whole again.
Even if they hurt me, I love them.
I protect them from having other people seeing them, they are my babies, nobody will see them because I don't want them to.
I am no attention seeker, for I don't tell people about my babies. They are my possession and will forever exist in my world.
In my world there are no friends, no parents, no school.
I exist with my scars, I wear them like girls with their hatred for their fat, ...hidden, under cloth.
Self-harm • Opuss № I