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I self harm.
I cut, until I cannot anymore.
I sit there.. staring at my wrist. Looking at all the scars, burns, and cuts.
I say, what have I done?
The moment, that I cut.. i want more. I need more.. deeper, so i can watch the blood slowly slither down my wrist.
Sometimes.. i can't stop cutting, until i feel my head.. getting.. light.
Then, i know i have to stop.
I have thoughts about death,, but sometimes, i just don't have enough courage to do it.
I don't cut for attention. I cut, because it's a release. It takes out.. the pain, it.. it's indescribable.
I post things about cuts, depression.. burns.. hate.. anything that has to do with me.
But i will, remain anonymous.
Follow me, if you are a depressed, self harmer.
Message me, for more information.
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Kill me.
Do it.
I don’t care.
Hit me with a train.
Hang me from a rope.
Take a knife and shove it in me.
I don’t care.
Nobody else will care.
Everyone will laugh.
Everyone will be happy.
They won’t care.
Cut me.
Do it.
I don’t care.
Take a razor.
Firmly direct it down my skin.
Deeper.
Deep enough.
But wait, it’s never deep enough.
It’s never enough.
Watch,
As the blood trickles down my wrist.
I won’t care.
Watch,
As the cut
Scabs over,
Dries,
And becomes a scar.
I dont wanna be here anymore.
Just get me out of this trapped box of depression and desparation of happiness.
Get me out
Of this world
That makes me miserable.
Get
Me
Out.
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