I was crying in the darkness. I kept crying and crying.
I kept cutting and cutting my arms.
I didn't know what I supposed to do.
I think I had found the deepest corner I could find, but it was so dark I couldn't see anything. I tried to reach out on something, but I didn't feel anything on my fingertips.
The pain inside me was outrageous. I had to.. I just had to cut to make myself feel better. It was the only way to ease my pain.. Creating more pain in a physical way.
I spent a lot of time there. Months turned into years and I wasn’t able to cry anymore. It is not that crying helped my condition anyway. I somehow liked my self-made