written August 27, 2004
The first cut is always the one she hesitates in making. In that moment of hesitation, she realizes what she is about to do and knows that she can stop at anytime. She knows that she can put back the eyebrow trimmer into the pencil case, turn off the light, go to bed, and attempt sleep. But she also knows that she would stare at the ceiling, feeling nothing but an unsaid pain that was incomprehensible.
Placing the blade on the tender skin at the top of her wrist, she draws it down towards the fold of her elbow. Now, it was easy to repeat the motion; it became mechanical. The cuts made her skin tingle with a euphoric sensation. Her breathing became steady and deep, her tears stopped. She was calm.
“no one’s picking up the phone / guess it’s clear he’s gone
and this little masochist / is lifting up her dress
guess I thought I could never feel the things I feel” ~t. amos
Comments
3 responses to “the first”
Wow. *hugs*
This reminds me of Secretary with Maggie Gyllenhall. And “Hey Jupiter” is one of my favorite Tori songs.
I can relate to this state of mind very well. Reading this brings back some memories, and picked just a little bit at dried up scabs.
~ X
great post. i wrote one like this a while back:
HERE.
Whoops. Bad Link. This one: HERE