Red Opium.

Because I'm a piece of shit. Because everything that could have gone wrong in my life, has. I have no control. The one thing I had a hold on in my life has gone away. I got three C's this semester. Three C's. That's the worst I've ever done in my entire life. If I don't have my grades, I have nothing. If I don't have good grades, I'll never be a professor. If I never become a professor, my dream is dead. There is no reason for my existence. There is no reason to hold back from cutting. I don't care if I live or die anymore. I just don't care. If I live, I live; if I die, I die. I'm just a stupid piece of shit. What does it matter what happens to me anyway? My own family can't admit I'm a cutter. They can't admit what happened to me when I was a little girl. So who cares? Who really cares? I'm to the point I don't even care if they know I'm a cutter. I'm to the point, I debate not even holding back from cutting my arms anymore. Who the hell cares? Who cares? They need to face up that I have problems, and WHY I have these problems. I'm sick of being their lie. I'm sick of being the skeleton in the closet. I want to be me, and right now, me is a person who's cutting like crazy. Within two weeks, I've put 337 new cut marks on my body. Yeah, I count. And I plan on putting more there tonight. And tomorrow night. And forever. Who the fuck cares? WHO CARES? Just let me bleed. Just let me feel alive for once today. Just let me hurt on the outside.