Mini Stories

I'm Fine...

The more I laugh, the better you feel.

The more I smile, the better you feel.

I laugh it off.

Joke about it to keep the tears at bay.

Have panic attacks every time I go to the bathroom so you don't see.

I eat only when you're around.

So you don't question why I'm growing thinner.

I run harder. Longer. Every day.

"Are you okay?"

No.

"Yeah I'm fine."

I ran out of room on my arm.

Now my hips.

And thighs.

Are covered with designs.

I draw with the blade.

My skin the canvas.

Creating beautiful pictures I wish to show.

But I know.

To laugh it off.

To smile when you're around.

Do you even care that I spend my Sunday mornings at some stupid session?

I wasn't joking when I said I got worse.

And you want to know what you did?

You laughed.

You fucking laughed like it was another joke.

Tell me.

Would you laugh if I told you that you were the reason?

Would you laugh if I told you that I now take pills just to keep me living?

Would you laugh if I told just how easy it has become to go numb to the pain?

Would you laugh if I told that I want to end it all right now?

Would you?

My sleeves never seem to stay down.

My legs always hurt with the fabric rubbing my torn skin.

I don't care anymore.

I stopped counting the pills.

I stopped looking both ways.

I stopped caring how deep I went.

But it's fine.

I'm just fine.

Maybe?