A cutters vivid memory

*I am sorry that this really isn't a poem but as I sat down at my computer I had a very vivid harsh flashback...thanks for reading*

Sitting in the january cold with the wind blowing on her face, tears well up beneath her eyelids and she silently cries in the safe darkness of the night. The moonlight bounces across the icey lake and it makes her tears seem endless. Eventually after a long while she gets up from her sitting place and walks up her dreaded apartment stairs and says a quiet hello to her dad, who doesn't ask how long shes been out or where she has been. She just walks on past into the bathroom. She turns on the bathtub faucet and fills the bottom of the tub with hot water. She tests it with her fingertips to make sure that it is just right. She has been fighting the temptation for what seems like to long. She is tierd of fighting, tierd of all of it. Then she walks over to the mirror and opens it with a bit of a creak, she takes down the shiny razor and holds it in her hands. Her savor-her friend. She cuts herself many times and with all of the energy left in her she sighs and feels relief. The blood bubbles and slowly begins to trickle down her leg. And as it reaches her tired ankles she gets into the tubs hot water and just sits there. Wondering in her fragmented mind about her past and about her future. She slowly falls asleep. When she wakes up its late. The night is almost up but she could get a little more sleep before school. So she drains the now freezing crimson water and leaves the tiny bathroom in a white towel- with her new thick cuts running swiftfully up her thigh begining to leak out onto the towel. She no longer cares who sees but has not to worry. Her father is long passed out on the couch in the living room and has no idea that his daughter has just so craftly cut her skin. She goes to her room flips on the alarm and goes back to sleep. A few hours later she awakes and gets herself ready for school. And on her way there she puts on her "beautiful" smile and gets ready to face the day. She gets ready to face all of her friends and all her other peers. She looks in the mirror. That girl is me- I am her. Every thing similar, every breath the same. Every stride in the hallway and every cut exact. We go to school and we go home together. We share the pain and we share the heartache. We are one.