Slipping

Slipping

By Kati Frazier

My arm is scratched.

Damn me for not thinking.

How can I keep making the same mistakes over and over;

"Don't raise your voice; you know what will happen"

It is silly...I should know, I should know, I should know.

I ran away in tears and into my room and locked my door. I cried and cried, rivers flowing out of my eyes.

(how could these massive amounts of water fit inside my aching body?)

No lighter.

Dear God, no lighter - Where had I put it?!

What was I to do now? I needed the pain so badly.

Don't think, just do.

I grab the sharpest thing I can find and dig it, bear it hard, and rake it through my skin.

Again

I want to die, I want to die.

Across my wrists as if slitting them.

Again

No blood, damn my weak arms. The math compass is not sharp enough to bleed, and I am too weak to force it.

The tears keep falling and falling and I have no will left to lift my right arm to scar my right again.

finally I run out of tears. My shirt is stained with the old ones. I look down at my left arm, the underside is riddled with deep burning red lines.

It feels so good, so wonderful.

Shit, I can see it.

"You idiot, how could you be such a dumbass? How can you hide those? How can you hide those?"

Just don't let anyone see the underside of your arm, that is all.

"And look, now there is your lighter Kati. If you had looked for two more seconds you could have had your pain without visibility"

But God, it felt so good.

I can feel my mind slipping as tears begin to return. I cannot get the pain out of my mind. I can't burn my mind; I cannot scratch it.

How did I get like this? The fetal position on my floor, crying harder now.

The skin on my arm strongly shows the digging,

No blood?

Where are my scissors? I want to die, and that damn compass isn't sharp enough.

I can feel my mind slipping.

Frantically searching through desk drawers, they aren't anywhere, it seems. Anywhere.

I'm singing

"When did that happen, when did I start singing?"

It's alright

I'm ok

I dont need you anyway

It's alright

I'm ok

I dont need you anyway

The tune is hurting me.

My hands are shaking, and I am singing. When did this happen?

My mind is going.