I Guess That Says Something

There's blood everywhere, on my fingers, my pen, my skin, even little crimson droplets have seeped into my shirt. I don't know how I'm feeling right now. At least I can control this pain, unlike when you left me. I don't like not being in control. This time, I am. There's nine so far, all straight, parallel lines. There's more order in these cuts than there is in my life. That says something, doesn't it? Dad's watching TV, nothing new there. I'm trying to muffle my sobs, not like he'd check on me if he heard them anyways. Things have gotten bad again, as you see. But this time you're nowhere to be found when you're the one I need the most. I guess that also says something, doesn't it?