Deeper

I wake.
it's still dark.
the house is full of silence.
I ask myself \"is there any reason to go on further?\"
I think not, but then I think of him.
I think of what he said.
Not to do it.
not to leave him to deal with it,
Alone.

But I can\'t stop.
The cutting takes away the pain.
Slowly, I reach for the knife.
I roll up my sleeve, seeing the scars I have already left.
I hold it to my wrist, and slowy press it towards the warm flesh.
I put pressure on the knife, and i gasp as it breaks the skin.
Crimson liquid pours out of the fresh cut.
I keep pushing it along, so it is deeper and longer.
Wincing, I pull the knife away.

I bite down on my lip, holding in my sceam.
Cradling my cimson arm , i lay down the knife.
I pull the covers up and cry.
Not from the physical pain, but the emotional.
Tears stream down my face, and fall onto the open wound. I went deeper than the others.

The pain is almost unbearable.
I hate being like this.
But the cutting helps me on the inside.
Then, I think of him again.
\"im sorry\". I whisper the words, but they just disappear into the night.
Still crying, I send him these words: \"I love you.\"
After, I tell him why i cannot stay any longer.
In anger, I throw my phone accross the room, and dig the knife deep into my heart.