when i would hold that blade in between my fingers i would shake.
i don't know why it made me shake,
but it did.
i think part of why i would shake was because i had the weight of my hate for myself dragging me so far down that i was straining my muscles just to stand.
when i would dig the metal into my flesh my tears would evaporate
and i would watch the slice turn rosy
and then it would fill up with my blood
until it dribbled over the edge of the wound
and slid down my hips
then my legs would shake
the blood made me dizzy and sick