I need the edge of insanity, to know I’m not crazy.
I want to share the darkest parts of me, be heard and understood.
I crave my death, but will fight for last breaths.
Inside I’m dead, I died when you left.
I can only see my beauty, inside empty hearts.
I need to suffer for my pleasure, I want to suffer for my art.
Are you the one to take me there? Come play loves darkest game.
Mark me with dark bruises, in time they’ll fade away.
Watch me through your windows, while im […]
I did not, you see, want to kill myself. Not at that time, anyway. But I wanted to know that if need be, if the desperation got so terribly bad, I could inflict harm on my body. And I could. Knowing this gave me a sense of peace and power, so I started cutting up my legs all the time. Hiding the scars from my mother became a sport of its own. I collected razor blades, I bought a Swiss army knife, I became fascinated with the different kinds of sharp edges and the different cutting sensations they produced. I tried out different shapes—squares, triangles, […]
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