Cut, cut, cut. Thats all I have don today, seeing the blood pour out of my arms, carving the word hope onto my leg, feeling the release. disgust feels me now and I am deeply disturbed but what I have done. My tears fall into the cuts and sting. I won't ever be free from this place I am in and the knief I use has become my best friend, my healer..........can I stoop any lower?
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