by Kathleen Oct 5, 2006
category :
Sadness, depression /
about depression
The sharp edge of the razor cuts my skin easily. I'm numb to the pain, numb to the blood, too numb to realize what's happenening, to realize what I'm doing. One cut fallows another, and another, till I can't stop. The razor falls from my hand, blood drips down my arm, tears roll down my cheeks. What have I done? |