Some days I really just wanna die. When i cut I feel so close to it...it'd just be a matter of flipping my arm over and applying a little more pressure and it'd all be over. I like to trace along where I'd cut very lightly and ohh my god thinking about it gives me butterflies and makes my heart race faster...how close I am to some silence.
But I don't of course. Prolly because I'm a coward. But what else can I do really? Just gotta pick myself up off the bathroom floor really. Go to the mirror, wipe the tears away. Fix my makeup. Practice my prettiest smile and go back out and pretend I'm okay. That never happened as far as anyone needs to know. I'm not supposed to feel things. Just smile pretty and spread my legs for the gents, cuz that's my job. Make it look good. If you're not happy fake it.
