Cutting

I didn’t miss anything anymore, this might be the answer to my problems or the beginning of a new end.
Tears rolled down my cheek, I couldn’t move from the darkness and my body felt paralyzed waist below; I could have moved but chose to stay there staring at the ivory wash basin.
The blade was still in my right hand and crimson stipes on my left arm glistened, under the florescent light of the bathroom’s grey floor.

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My breathing was heavy, heard a truck on the main road honk and an awkward silence. There was a burning sensation on each of the cuts and it hurt like a citrus burn and I enjoyed it.

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