5 posts tagged “blood”
She leaned over the gray stone sink, her dark eyes empty and unfocussed, seemingly staring at a point beyond her own distorted reflection. A sad lonely song played on in the background, but she seemed oblivious to it. Someone was banging on the fragile bathroom door. The girl didn't move. She did not even seem to hear. Silence filled the air. She kept gazing at whatever it was that only she could see. The song ended and another began... Her eyes filled up with tears...
For a while, she let them swim there and then... she blinked, a confused look flitting across her face. Suddenly, she reached up and angrily wiped away the forming tears with the sleeve of her white too-big T-shirt. As she accidentally dragged the sleeve down her face, the frown changed to a grimace. Her head snapped up to attention and she stared at the girl in the mirror as if seeing her there for the first time. Her eyes drifted over the straggly dark hair that fell over the pale face, down to the dark blank eyes. Her gaze stopped at the red line drawn across her left cheek. She reached up slowly and winced as her fingers brushed against the mark.
Her eyes widened as the screams filled her head once again. The dark kohl had smeared across her pale face and for a moment the girl in the mirror frightened her. The empty lifeless eyes, the lack of expression on her face, the detached pain the bruise was giving her. For a moment, it wasn't her reflection she was staring at, it was her ghost. The banging began again, but she paid no attention. The words in her head drowned out everything else. The song changed again. People began to shout, in worry, in fear, in panic... but the girl was too busy listenin to the voices in her head, staring into the mirror, afraid to reach out and touch it because she didn't know whether it was the glass that lay shattered or if it was just her reflection. Either way would hurt her... either way she would break. Either way, it didn't matter, because... there was no real difference between her and her reflection.
A faint smile played upon her lips as the blackness swallowed her. A little longer and she wouldn't have to bleed anymore...
*laughs*
This is just insane...
Completely insane...
And I can't believe I'v brought this whole thing on myself...
Where do I go now?
I know what to do...
I know what to say...
but where do I go?
It hurts so much...
*pause...*
*laughs*
And I'm the one who asked for pain no?
I'm the one who wanted to know if I was alive...
Do I know yet?
I don't know...
but I guess you have to be alive if you're dying...
and I guess you're alive if you can bleed...
So I'll stand here... and I'll bleed...
Smoking is bad for you.
Right after I make this statement, people always do one of the following things
-Stare at me pointedly
-Launch into a lecture that makes me regret making that simple factual sentence.
-Swallow hard and try not to launch into a lecture, but do so anyway.
-Shake their heads in a puzzled sort of way that reminds me of my dog on holiday mornings when I’m awake before lunch.
The first three I ignore, the last I giggle at.
I’ve tried to explain the whole situation too many times.
Yes, I know its bad for me.
No, I don’t want to be coughing up blood at 25.
And maybe it will kill me.
But look at it this way.
What if, at 24 years and 364 days, I get run over by a bus, fall off the roof, get struck by lightning, drown or get abducted by aliens and used as a case study for a research paper on Homo sapiens? All of these, being equally likely, except maybe the last one. (But then again, you never know…)
How, do you think, that would make me feel? Pointless question, if I use the assumption that dead people don’t feel, but nonetheless… How do you think I would feel?
I shall tell you. I would feel clean, healthy, and my lungs would not be screaming in agony… but most importantly, I would feel dead! And once you feel that, well, let’s just say none of the other things seem to matter much anymore.
Of course, I am not denying that it is equally likely that I do live to see my 25th b’day. But if I do, I’ll think of something then…
Till then, do me a favour and do the puzzled-head-shake thing again… I miss my dog.
“What would happen if I went too deep?
Would I ever wake from this eternal sleep?
Would you miss me, would you cry?
Would you ever wonder why?”
The floor feels strangely cold.
As cold as snow.
Too far…
An accident…
But no one will ever believe that…
A frown.
Shakes head. Doesn’t really matter.
Won’t at all once she’s asleep.
And this time, she doesn’t even need to worry bout wakin up.
Miss her?
Not really.
Besides, they’ll move on.
Forget.
Cry perhaps.
But forget nonetheless…
Except on cold nights when she’d come back to walk in the snow outside their homes…
Then they’d remember…
And shed a few more tears.
…Perhaps.
Or smile at the distant memory of the girl they once knew…
Or thought they knew… till the morning she killed herself.
“A mistake” she whispers.
But there’s no one listening.
Jus like always….
And jus like always…
No one would believe her
“It was a mistake…” she writes
She never meant to go that deep...
I was wonderin why I really did cut... and well, these are all the reasons I came up with... will keep updating...
Coz I need to feel. Pain is a feeling, and I need it to tell me I'm still alive
Coz it feels like I've been havin a dream... and I jus' can't wake from it...
Coz it bothers me to see my outer skin look so whole and unbroken while I feel jus' so torn...
To bring myself back, coz I go so far away that I'm afraid that someday, I won't be able to return...
To remind myself.
Coz I can't cry
Coz its a habit
Coz I wonder how much I can really take
Coz I loathe the person I'm turnin into... or maybe hav already become...
Coz I'm afraid of losing control
Coz I prefer pain to nothingness
Coz nothin matters
To watch me heal,... even if it IS jus' on the outside...
Coz I want to remember
Coz I need to forget...
Coz I need to hurt, before rage consumes me... I'm afraid if not me, I'll jus' hurt someone else...
