Literature
Self Harm Monologue
You call me a 'freak'.
A 'weirdo'.
A 'pathetic emo loser'.
Well guess what?
I don't care.
What makes you think I care?
Who are you to question me- to judge.
You don't have that right.
That privilege.
You strut up to me-
Fag in hand,
and always-always,
in the same nagging, persistent tone,
with the same words that make me want to claw out my eyes in disbelief, you ask me..
" Do you cut yourself?"
And it goes on.
And ON.
Pfft- like I haven't heard you.
...
I relent.
"Yes" is always my reply.
Your tedious response, as always- is the same.
"That's sick!"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah- Im sick.
Pfft, look at me.
So my skin