should i run out? should i get up naked, dripping, slipping, wet? because i think that maybe i need to get away. i'd like to be away, from myself. no, i lay still, inhaling steam as the stream of blood lessens, dissipates. i say to myself fuck, another failed attempt.
i get up & out slowly. my feet leave wet marks in the dry towel. i look in the mirror. i'm terrified.
who are you? when did you get like... this? how & why & fuck, fuck, fuck. you are such an ugly soul, such an ugly body.
i take a towel off the rack, wrap myself up, quick. i dry off. i brush my hair. it doesn't make any difference because the pain never ceases. in my mind i am on the ground. i am clawing at the floor, at my eyes. i am spitting & sobbing & screaming.
all that i ever wanted was to be beautiful.
written on 2004-04-02 at 9:54 p.m.
she / lost