I wonder if it would work the way I imagine it:

If I put the knife into my arm under the vein and pulled upward, would the vein push up against the inside of my skin before it gave way, like cutting a tag out of clothing? I can imagine it, every time I close my eyes.

I understand what my mom used to say now, about being too much of a coward to pull the trigger.

Self-preservation is a hard instinct to kill.



I don't want to die. Sometimes it just helps take me away from where I am to let my mind focus on something that doesn't exist in this world.

I don't need to cut, and I'm barely even upset now.
I'm sweating through all of my clothes, and I'm numb. I haven't been numb in a while.

They held me out and made me stay through it. I just wanted to leave and be done with the endless questions, prodding, leading questions to push me toward someone else's logic.

When He walked behind me I imagined Him grabbing my hair and holding a knife to my throat.