Step by Step

Copyright Psyko

I’m sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall in my closet, room light off, closet light on. I grab the razor, wipe it of on my jeans, and slant it to where only the end point of the blade is on my skin. Every bad dream and memory of stuff that’s happened to me flashes through my mind. In my head I see people hurting me, not physically. Just screaming at me. I see myself crying, taking second glances at the face that nobody loves except for family and close friends. I press the blade into my skin and drag it across, hearing the flesh rip and the razor goes by. I get to the end of my arm and lift up, open my eyes and look down to see beads of red forming in the torn skin. I feel the rush of my body trying to heal itself. I’m happy again, knowing that at least my body doesn’t want me to die… and I forget about the people who couldn’t care less if I did.


Permanent location: