Help Me Please
I can't say I'm unhappy, but I can't say I'm happy either. I've been thinking about it a lot, but I know there would be no turning back. Often times I wonder if it's my punishment for trusting the darkness. There's no way to be sure, all I know is that it's what I want. Addiction is a strange thing, and it's not easy to cope with.
Thanks to addiction, I have to hide my wrists. It's hard to stop. What started it? Why did my flesh have to become the victim of my emotions? There aren't any good answers to these questions. Sora and Kairi never asked, but they also never saw my scars. I don't know what they would think, so I hide them. Not only do I hide the scars under fabric, I hide them with laughter and silly smiles.
Every morning gets harder. I've built a routine around it. First, I spend an hour in bed, so I wake up at 5 a.m. Around 6, I go to the bathroom and slice open my skin at my wrists. I don't indulge in this for too long, or else I'd never stop. After that, I asked for help. I could stop, but the shame takes over. I'm afraid that one day, I'll cut too deep. Death is not the goal, I only want the pain. I want to let it flow through me.