It's late. I should be sleeping. Yet there's a creeping chill crawling down my back and I feel my whole mind turning black.
My faith is long dead and gone. I keep asking what I have or haven't done to deserve... this.
But the abyss just stares back in silence, making me crave all the violence, the yelling... My heart's swelling and there's nothing but the sizzling static.
And I might be a bit dramatic, but when all one hears is sharp alarms ringing, screaming in your ears... it makes you claw at your own skin. But your nails are dull and your skin's not thin.
You grab a knife, a blade, cold steel and you slice, you slit and all you feel for a moment there is the burning of the fresh-made cuts.
No heavy feelings in your guts, no stomach's churning, no world spinning... just warm blood trickling down your arms.
No more alarms when your heart beats like a drum and everything goes... numb.
You fade away, your face goes blank and then...
...there's a clank of the knife dropped on the floor. You blink in panic, back of your mind checking for the sound of the door opening as you're frantically wrecking the place up in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
But the urges don't go quiet. Always wanting, always needing, hungry, begging for more carnage.
And suddenly not even a knife is sharp enough no matter how rough you are.
So the next time you grab a razor, raising the bar, higher and higher, not caring you might take it too far.
And maybe, deep down, you even wish you will.
gracieabrams
stormborns
origamiaround
amandla
2087
dailybridgerton