You know...I want to pull a knife down my arm. See the blood pool up and just watch as I carve more into my skin. I want it not to just hurt, I want it to scar, leaving behind every memory with each scar. But the thing is, I can't even do that. We have no fucking knives that are sharp enough, they don't cut me, still trying to find a better knife. I mean... ugh, I shouldn't cut myself. But I want to so badly, I want some pain, for the mistakes I've made, and pain that I can understand. Because my mental pain...is a hot mess, I don't understand it. I just.....I don't know anymore.
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