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The only way out.
All this anger building up inside of me.

The scars.
Scars i have out of frustration.

Anger.
Incapable os controlling my actions.

Fear of death.
I don't go all the way.
Just a few cuts. On my arm. My leg. My wrist.

Not too deep.
Not enough to die.
Sometime too deep.

I cry.
Fear of death.

What ohters will think.
How they will react.

Blood. Everywhere.
It never stops.

Dizziness.
Too much going through my mind.
Too much blood.

Fear of death.

I stop caring.
I let myself cry.
I let the blood rush out of my wrist.
I write a sorry note.
I lay it in the middle of the floor.

Hopefully they'll see it.

Sleep. Try to forget the pain, the anger, the fear.

Alertness. I'm still here. I'm alive.
Nobody needs to know.

I put the note in a safe place.
I wash my clothes, my bedsheets, my wrist.

I forget that it ever happened.
Nobody knows.