THE QUIET.

|thirty nine

i groaned,

hitting my head on my desk.

"you all fucking suck." i muttered as my classmates yelled once again at the stupid movie.

closing my eyes in hopes of falling alseep,

i mentally shot the person who screamed once again.

accepting the fact that i wasn't going to be able to sleep,

i opened my eyes and just kept my head on my desk.

my right arm was in perfect view because of the position i was sitting in,

so i just admired it.

i was wearing a short black sleeved shirt today,

so all you could really see on it was white scars.

for some reason when they healed,

they turned white.

it wasn't all that noticeable unless you were close to it,

but they still took up most of my forearm.

i couldn't stop myself from thinking about how it used to feel.

it hurt like hell,

but it honestly made my depression more bearable since i didn't have to keep all the feelings in my head.

i don't miss it though.

it was a mistake.

a really,

really big mistake.

i can only wonder what yours look like.