trigger warning self harm implied
i sit with my back to the wall
tears streaming down my face
i'm not enough
i'm not worth it.
my nails dig into my arm
one. two. three. release.
i feel like i can breath again
after what feels like years of drowning.
the relief only lasts a second
until it's overthrown by immense guilt.
and i suddenly realize
the butterfly is dead.
del.