it's not that you hate me,or want me to die.but maybe i go home,and think of suicide.i'm in too much pain to survive on my own-the hurt i can't handle overflows to a knife.i write on my arm,i want to give up on my life.
it's been what, a week?
a lot took place.
holidays.
sex.
alcohol.
family.
friends.
i did so much. over this one week cny holidays.
yet i find myself returning to this same dark hole.
this small sanctuary of mine.
where all i do weep. and cut. and scream.
i'm one confused bitch.
p/s : i'm up to 7 now.
xxxxx
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