A sharp blade seems to be the only comfort I have. Bleeding seems to be the only way I can vent because, I can no longer cry. No one pays attention, asks how I'm feeling or, even bother to look. Sometimes I purposely have my cuts in the open but, it hurts to know no one cares. An endless cycle but what is the point in breaking it. I can wall off all I want and no one would even know. I'm constantly left in the cold and my words fall on the wind so why not just let it run like a stream. Apparently I'm not broken so why try and fix me
|