Wednesday, December 29


Two red lines below the crease of my elbow, the width of my arm and perfectly spaced. Trotting poles. One, two, three, jump. This is so teen-angst, so a couple years ago, you remember when it was cool and hardcore to cut. I didn't expect it to be sixty-one degrees today, a beautiful day for t-shirts and everyone creeps out of the cracks to ask what happened. It's not bad enough, really, for any concern. I just thought it was about time I took a more active role in killing myself.


Anonymous Anonymous said...


December 29, 2004 at 10:12 PM  

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