I have done it, again.
I have been here many times before.
Hurt myself again today.
And the worst part is,
There's no one else to blame.
Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes. She stared helplessly into the mirror, her wrist turned away from her body awkwardly, so she could see it.
She breathed out harshly in a dry sob, resisting the urge to break the mirror. She yanked her sleeve down, covering the fresh cuts as she swung her backpack up onto her shoulder and walked out of the bathroom. The hallway was busy. No one would notice her.
Breathing slowly, she weaved through classmates until she reached the door, pushing it open forcefully and stepping out. The cool fall wind struck her skin, raising goosebumps. She shivered slightly, but kept walking.
The urge to cry got stronger and stronger the farther she walked, and finally, she gave up. Tears rolled down her face, leaving salty black streaks in their path.
She started to run, jogging across half-deserted streets and manicured lawns, running until she was out of breath and standing at the former city park. She crossed the sand box, crushing weeds and spiders on the way, and sat down in one of the cracked plastic swings.
Her fingers curled tightly around the rusty chains as her head hung low. The tears came faster and she sobbed quietly.
All she could remember were mistakes. She couldn't dig up one memory without a scar that represented it.
She'd lost all she loved because of those scars. Yet, she still couldn't stop herself. She did it more and more, until finally she needed it, craved it.
It was a vicious, destructive cycle, and even though she knew that, she could never fight the spinning. It always repeated. More and more of them appeared, angry and red.
I have lost myself again.
Lost myself and I am nowhere, to be found.
Yeah, I think that I might break.
Lost myself again and I feel, unsafe.