The pain it causes is less than I feel.
The mess it makes is less than I am.
The problems it causes are less than I deal with.
Just leave the blade where it lies, for another day at least.
It’s like hands wrapping around my neck, pressing just enough to make breathing difficult.
It’s like a knife left in my head and when I finally forget about it someone twists it.
It’s like taking everything you loved, soaking it in gas and lighting it on fire.
Seeing happiness when you can’t achieve it is like choking on your favorite food.
Oh right, because I’m an idiot