not the sexual healing, but the painful yet soothing feeling.
feel the sharp rush of pain that trickles up your spine, a reliever of hurt but a maker of scars.
the "only way I can deal with it" type pain, an excuse spoken by a teenager who believes there's 'no way out.'
she stands alone and watches her blood slowly slide down her wrists to her fingertips as she wonders..why?
why she can't live a happy life, she feens.
why her shattered soul is wearing her down to the point where her ability to even move is a struggle, she leans.
why she didn't push him off when he tried to put himself inside her barely-legal year old v****a, she bleeds.
why, at nights, she curled up in bed and felt her warm tears roll down her cold lifeless skin, she dreams.
she now stands in front of the mirror and stares with a blank face.
with no hesitation the sharp object rips through her flesh, releasing the blood used to keep her alive as
she screams! she screams.
? I wanna make a change for once in my life ?
But can she?
Can she make that change to put down the knife and pick up the book,
the book that guides people through life and helps them open their eyes to look?
Can she love herself enough to not want to be put in a box in-caged between walls, searching for a place to go?
Now that, I don't know.