The hunger for blood has returned.
Not for the blood of mysogynists or the fuckboys pushing me in the schoolyard,
This bully creeps in corridors and doesn't make a sound.
I know her, we were friends once,
Estranged for such a long and sunny time but now she's come back,
And she wants just one more play date.
The moonlight streams through my windows tonight, full and pale on the ice below
Perfect illumination for mutilation.
The blade against my thighs,
Stomach,
Blood beading up against my wrist and trickling down in stains on my sheets, it feels like a kiss
Feels like my only true lover,
My real friends have come back, and they're working their way under my sheets.
Soon there won't be any room for anyone else.
But will anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
I can't get the blood off the sheets in my bed,
And I'm all but dead now.
Don't let her win.
Don't let them win.
Don't give in.
