Insane. Emo. Cutter. Depressed kid.
Names. Designations. All viscously hurled at me as a verbal attempt
To destroy
Myself.
Too late.

These words.
Combinations of letters,
Vowels,
Consonants,
Succeed.

These words.
Slicing deeper than my blade.
Deeper than glass.
Deeper than Hell.
Deeper than mania.

"Fuck you..." I whisper.

She stands there.
Concerned.
Her inability to console me impales my soul.
I worry her and she
Can't
Do
Anything.

Tortured, I stride through this inferno
Head down.

Lost and leaving.
Myself,
And this utopia.

Insanely I
EMOtionally
Cut my being.
Depression taking over
As words meander through my head.

"Insane.
Emo.
Cutter.
Depressed".

This.
Is.
Me.