Your voices run through my head as I stare at the tools laid out in
front of me. Every day you ask the same questions, your voices casually
concerned.
"How are you Omi? Doing well?"
As if you would expect any other answer. As if you would care about any other answer. So I think I'll answer your questions once and for all. With any luck, I won't have to worry about you asking me again.
I select one device from those laid out before me and drag it across my skin, pushing hard. Hard enough to leave a mark. Sure enough, a trail of red blooms over my skin, following the path my hand forced the tip of the tool along. It is etched on my skin for all to see, the unspoken answer to your uncaring questions. Maybe now you'll understand. Maybe now you'll get it. Is this what it takes? Do I have to make a canvas out of my body for you to see what I go through? If that's what I need to do, that's what I'll do. I've tried everything else…
Nodding at the handiwork displayed on my arms, I recap the Magic Marker and step out into the front room of the shop again. Ken passes by, then does a double take and returns to read the message I inked on my arms for the world to see. I watch his lips move a little as he reads.
"No I'm not okay. And no, I don't want to talk about it."
He looks up, his eyes searching. I meet his gaze squarely, biting my lip a little. After a moment, he just nods a little and walks away.
A/N: Admit it, who thought he was slashing his wrists? You all jump to conclusions…. ^_^ Hm, this was rather odd. I just thought of it and had to write it…
Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know…
"How are you Omi? Doing well?"
As if you would expect any other answer. As if you would care about any other answer. So I think I'll answer your questions once and for all. With any luck, I won't have to worry about you asking me again.
I select one device from those laid out before me and drag it across my skin, pushing hard. Hard enough to leave a mark. Sure enough, a trail of red blooms over my skin, following the path my hand forced the tip of the tool along. It is etched on my skin for all to see, the unspoken answer to your uncaring questions. Maybe now you'll understand. Maybe now you'll get it. Is this what it takes? Do I have to make a canvas out of my body for you to see what I go through? If that's what I need to do, that's what I'll do. I've tried everything else…
Nodding at the handiwork displayed on my arms, I recap the Magic Marker and step out into the front room of the shop again. Ken passes by, then does a double take and returns to read the message I inked on my arms for the world to see. I watch his lips move a little as he reads.
"No I'm not okay. And no, I don't want to talk about it."
He looks up, his eyes searching. I meet his gaze squarely, biting my lip a little. After a moment, he just nods a little and walks away.
A/N: Admit it, who thought he was slashing his wrists? You all jump to conclusions…. ^_^ Hm, this was rather odd. I just thought of it and had to write it…
Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know…