obsessing over how badly i want to die i find i have been hitting myself in the face pulling at my hair scraping my milky skin to an angry and passionate red is this what going crazy is like or am i simply growing up never learning how to cope taking solace in hurt wearing my misery on a scarred up wrist no one sees but the angels///he holds me and places soft kisses on my skin palm to palm our hands differ by a centimeter maybe two in the night he lies close to me he trusts me curls his body around mine i am enveloped in his sweet caresses his scent fills me to the brim i spill over in his hands no one sees but the angels