Sometimes.
Sometimes I don't have control over myself.
So.
So sometimes.
I cut.
Not my hand.
Not my wrist.
Not my arm.
My thigh.
Where you won't see.
Where you won't question why.
I just cut.
I deserve the slight pain.
I like the marks they leave.
Little carvings.
I'm sorry.
I don't mean to.
It's just.
I can't stop.
I don't need help.
I need reassurance.
I need someone to listen to me.
Don't say anything.
Just listen.
I've called a hotline before.
It didn't work.
I don't think any type of words will help me.
I'm sorry.
2022-01-20
