I pretend I know whats happening. I pretend I know where I'm going. I lie to myself everyday, telling myself I know the truth, only me, no one else will understand. But I'm wrong. I don't know whats happening, why its happening. I think I undersatnd why I hurt myself but not why I started. When did it become ok to have scars? To want pain? When did blood become nesessary?
I being to see through my lies. The ones I tell myself and the ones I tell to those close to me. " I can stop, it's nothing. I don't have a problem. I fell. I've stopped. I promise. I'm sorry."
The truth is it's been less than five days since I cut and I want to again but I can't because my friends will see, my friends will look. The truth Is I don't know where I am going except that I'm waiting to crash, for someone to stop me. Because, no matter what I say. I can't stop myself not because I'm not able to but because I don't want to. Even though I need to.