The red cross did a serious number on my arm when I gave blood earlier today. Fucking hurts like a mofo. I think I bled on myself more than I got into the bag.
Lost in the darkness with no way out. Completely shattered and broken beyond repair. Fighting the urge to cut. Promises are always broken when it comes to me.
My mother is way to perceptive to my moods. She knows something is wrong and I don't want to talk about it, and she knows I don't want to talk about it but asks anyway.