damik's Diaryland Diary

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All My Reasons Why

OK, so I know exactly how cowardly this is. I know I'm supposed to talk to you. But it's late at night and you are sick. And what ever excuse I can give. Truth is I didn't even watch you sleeping this time trying to talk myself into shaking you. I figure you are going to be angry at me one way or another so why not piss you off after you've gotten a full night of sleep. It's like being offered either end of a stick but they are both burning. It's going to hurt one way or another.

It hurts. Even when it is in the background. I play with it like a child with a loose tooth. I toy with my pain, needle it a little. I don't want it to be this invisible shroud covering me. I don't want it to be some abstract idea that the world can't see. But most of all I don't want to spend another night twirling that razor and talking myself out of it. That voice that tells me 'just one won't hurt' is a powerful voice. But fuck one. I want to carry it down as far as the path goes and I don't want to have to say I'm sorry. It's just flesh and it is better than crying.

So I don't shake you, I don't stare at you in the darkness thinking I should get the nerve to wake you. It's no big deal. I'm no more hurting myself than I am having a bacon cheese burger and fries while overweight. I don't drink so I get to cut. People have done far worse to themselves.

1:48 a.m. - 05-23-11
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