I Am

a n d r e a

I am a n d r e a

And I just don't feel... here anymore.

Just a shell. Just a body. Just a smiling face guarding a broken soul, a broken heart.

If I even have those anymore. I'm too numb to tell.

They just keep hitting me, over and over, telling me things that I already know.

I know I'm stupid.

I know I'm ugly.

I know I'm useless.

I know I'm fat.

Why don't they understand that I recognized that?

I sob harder; my tears mixing with the water hitting my face.

I can feel my puffy eyes, flushed cheeks, gasping breaths.

So nothing new really.

I turn the knob, making my shower warmer.

Only then is it that I glance at my razor.

I am stupid. 

Ugly.

Useless.

Fat.

I pick it up.

I shouldn't do this, I hear part of my brain whispering.

But the rest of my thoughts disagree.

As I hold the blade above my wrist, it seems to get heavier with every thought.

Every name I've been called, every insult that's been hurled at me, every careless rumor that someone has spread.

They all weigh down on my razor.

This is the answer.

I touch the blade to my skin.

And then I see the blood.

I watch it mix with the water.

At least I know that I can feel now.