Trigger warning.
I pick up the razor, studying it with intent.
It feels cold against my arm.
It leaves a mark.
And another.
And another.
No one notices.
I am unseen.
I walk alone.
Eat alone.
My own mother notices nothing.
But I carry on.
I will be fine.
I pick up the razor, studying it with curiosity.
Why does she have this?
I notice the blood.
I see her cuts.
She is in pain.
Alone, unnoticed.
Her own mother see's nothing!
But she carries on.
I will help her be fine.
He picks up the razor, not even sparing it a second glance.
It is warm where he held it.
It makes a loud clang as it hits the bottom of the trash can.
He takes my hand, and we turn away.
My own mother never knew.
The scarce are still here, but no new ones have been formed.
I am no longer alone.
I was noticed.
We will carry on.
And for once, I believe myself when I say
We will be fine.
YOU ARE READING
The Fractures Within Us
RandomSome of this will be fiction, some will be poems I have written. Warning, some may contain talk about violence, abuse, rape, suicidal notions and so on. I will try to remember to put warnings at the tops of them. But, yeah, poems, stories, rants, an...
