1_voices

5/23/25

What the hell are you doing?

Do you really think this will change anything?

This quiet torment you put yourself through. You tear yourself to pieces.

For what? Some ill-concieved notion of who you are, of what you are?

Look at you. You're rotting away. You hope bleeding helps. It does not. You persist. You cut deeper. Hoping to find something there, between sinew and muscle. Something to tell you're more than you hope. More than you know.

Bone. There is nothing but bone at the center.

The red catches your eye. It coats the floor now. It's everywhere. You take a moment. It'll take forever to clean this up. Of course that's your first thought. Of course. You watch it gush for a moment. The red eases you. At least you can bleed, at least you can die. One single point of control. Control. Control...

Exinguish that spark, and you remove everything. every fear. every hope. every wish to be more. Every moment you've grumbled about your form. Every moment you suddenly found yourself somewhere new. Every moment where you wake up to the world turning around you. It's all gone.

2_her
1_voices
0_horrible