The Only Anesthetic That Makes Me Feel Anything Kills Inside

She said to herself, "No.... I told him no more.. That I would try.."
But the depression spoke back defensively, "You're pathetic. Stop trying to deny this truth to yourself. This is all you have left."

She curled into a ball on the bottom of the bathtub as the hot water ran into her eyes.

As she wiped the mix of salt and fresh water from her eyes, she then reached for her only friend.
The blade was rather dull from the years of use upon materials it wasn't made for, but she didn't care.
Once, twice, five times across.

She clenched her eyes closed and shook violently as the fresh waves of pain and depression swept over her.
"I'll be okay... I'm fine now... At least I can still feel anything...", she repeated in her mind..

After finishing her shower, and after almost completely drying off, she noticed the pool of blood under her left foot.
Sighing with satisfaction, for, due to the morbid part of her creativity, the more blood there was, the better she felt.

She stepped out of the shower, careful not to leak upon the tiled floor, she walked into her room, and proceeded to become creative. The blood left a newly stained mark upon her biggest piece of art.

She finished cleaning up, got around, and proceeded to join some friends in the process of drowning inside a bottle for the rest of the night.

Goodnight.