Shallow cuts and long sleeves.

Depression has become a slippery slope for me. The terrential rains come and send my firmly planted feet flying out from under me. I'm sliding down this mud caked hill and I can barely hold on. And when I finally gain my balance the quicksand takes me.

The knife takes me. The pain and the escape it gives me envelopes me. It is my bliss and my salvation and I am thankful for every drop that spills from my chaffed wrists. It gives me something else to think about besides the hole in my chest. The empty space that can never seem to be filled because it is a blackhole and they are never satisfied.

I'm in control. There is power that comes with gripping something so tight it becomes a part of you and for an instant I become God. Millimeter of flesh and vein and tendon and blood seperate me from life and death. Not too rough or sudden now. Just enough pressure there. Oh that ones still fresh let it be. Always across the street and not down the road. Safety first.

It sounds really bad and I'm sure I'll regret writing this down but sometimes in the back of my mind I hear a little voice praying I'll slip up. Just a little. Then I can finally find real salvation.

Games of pretend and makebelieve have to end sooner or later.

It's over. Whatever we were. Whatever this was, is done. Not because you or I decided, but simply that our time has run out. Like the expiration date on milk that you don't notice until you've poured yourself a nice glass.

I'm not ready to move on, but the scary fact is I have no choice in the matter. The sight of you makes me physically ill. Bringing the bitter taste of bile into my throat. Poison.

I don't want you out of my life. In fact, I don't think I could handle it. But I can't pretend I'm okay anymore. It's breaking me. It broke us. Now's not the time for makebelieve. Whatever we were/are/were becoming is over. I'm done.

Just give me something.

Give me intimacy. Not necissarily skin on skin but something that makes what we have unique. One of those glances over the top of your book. Smile at me with one corner of your mouth. Melt me with those eyes.

Give me a word. Soft and sweet. Filled with tenderness and devotion. Sing me your favourite song. Speak my name as if it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. Laugh true and bestow on me a small piece of your happiness.

Give me a touch. Let your fingers write poetry on my skin like pen to paper. Let our lips do what they should. Hold my hand like you're afraid to let go. Pull me into your warm embrace as if it'll be out last.

Give me everything. Give me anything. Anything of you. Anything from you to hold on to.