She Fumbles in Her SELF!
Friday, Feb. 20, 2004, 2:20 P.M.~2:46 P.M

As she wakes from the stirr of the night. The deep sleep she was jsut enjoying, and the wonderfull dreams that is poesis. As she wakes from a cold sweat, and dry throught, broken lips and thobing heart. As she wakes from all of this she only has on thing on her mind. This wonderfull form or realeas she has managed to find.

*It like watching someone hurt them selves, you are worried for them, but want to laugh at the sametime. This is like that. You just want to let out something others would disgard. Although this is even better, is something, that not all share. Its something you hide more than that laugh.*

As she roles out of bed, she realizes what it really is. This place of resting, this place she lays her head. The place she cries her self to sleep. The plave that causes more pain then what she does onto her self. This resting place is not where she chooses to be.

She crawles over to her favorite corner. And reaches for her favorite obeject. Her knife, that is cold, and sharp, her knife she belives is her soul. She continues by rolling her P.J pants up and trys to find a place on her leg that is not all ready perminatly scared, not bleeding in pain all ready, a place that is un-cutt. She serches for what seems like,forever. She realizes that is fighting a endless battel.

She digs the cold metal into her skin, and watches as she comes out of her self....and she tips her head back she apreciats the feeling, the feeling that only lasts for several minutes. She proceds to do it again.While she slowly pulls the sharp blade across her soft femanine skin she lightly wispers to her self, these few words.....I cut my self, I but the Pain, I feed it with Blood, I make it wonderfull, I make it me, I make it hurt, I make it sting, I make if kill my self, my pain, my soul.

*This realse is what she relys to do, to get out of her day. To remover her self from her self. To forget the pain. To forget all of the life, to forget her self. To loss her self in her self. Its like a form of sexual pleasure, but 10 times better. This is just that intimite. This is that perfact. That wonderfull, that un-explainable.*

After realizing that this is all over. She cleans the bloood that has fallen. She pulls her pants back down to were they belong. Stands up and feels the sharp stinging pain in her left leg. This is where she left a peiece of her self, left her pain behind her for someone else to control.

She contunies to fumble her self back to bed. Where she can not return to her own world again. Where she can not seem to find silence that is much deserved, and needed. She tosses and turns, now only to have one wish, to return to her deep sleep, back her dreams of happy times, and not missery. To return back the way she was.....

The next morning as she wakes she hears her heart beating fast again, and her throught is dry yet again, and her lips are in pain. She stands up and looks her slef in the mirror, pulls her legs up again, and realizes no one sees her pain, no one sees her suffering, she hids it on her self, in her self, In places no others will notice. While she is observing her self, she looks at her self in discust, and proceds to crawl back to her corner, her corner of wisdome, or realise. As she looks down at her legs one last time she thinks that is not the place for that. I am tired of hiddding my pain...

You are my soulatude, You are my depth, You are my killer, You are my soul, You are my self, You are me, You are my arm, You are my new killer, You are my new death, And You are me....You are my knife my old killer, please proced to help me here. As I enter into a room, as I leave a corner and enter to my self.......