Young Writers Society

'Cut'

Silence.
Slip down onto the cool linoleum
Hear the drip of the faucet
Raspy breaths in your throat
Notice your heart beat quicken
Feel the blood coarse through your veins
Place the cool metal against your skin
And slide across silently.
Slight sting as the red trickles out
You feel pain, but at least you feel something.

7 years later.
The scars fade, yet still linger.
But the memory of the pain remains
The black hole in your soul, is still there,
But only when you allow yourself to think about it.
And you have thought about it.
But unlike back then,
You now have things to live for.
You have friends.
People who love you.
People who you know would be devastated,
If you were to leave
And that makes all the difference.