I’m sorry to all the people I hurt while I was hurting. I know my skin felt like shards of glass, and no one could get close enough to touch me. My fingernails were caked with blood, and I am so sorry that I don’t know whose it was. I am sorry to those I broke with my razor words, they were my own regrets. They were used to cut open my own insecurities when I thought I had run out. I was lost in a forest of my own doubt, the trees were too dense to believe in myself. The only way to find my place was with a paper cut trail leading to my home of denial. My brain was shreds of late reports and missed deadlines, and I was just an inkblot of a person, all I could see was my own skeleton in the pages. I do not know how to send this apology without it soaked in my tears, but I am sorry, I am so s o r r y