When you ask me how I am, I could tell you a lot. I could tell you how I hate myself. How I look into the mirror and cry. How I drag that blade across my skin every night. How I shove my finger down my throat. How I go to sleep, begging not to wake up. How I wish I could just disappear. How I am drifting away from everything. How I cry so hard, I can't breathe. But I won't. I'll say I'm fine, and smile.
confessions_of_a_cutter
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