I should not be tapping my foot against this familiar hardwood floor.

  I should not be dreading the sight of my ‘best friend’, who I would rather disappear.

  I should not be picking at plasters covering shallow cuts I covered my wrist with.

  I should not be tracing my hand with a pencil to take comfort in the puffy red it leaves behind.

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  I should not be here.

  I should not be alive.

  I should not have chosen to live last night.

  This sounds sad. Like im mentally ill, or depressed. This isn’t me - just a blip.

  Who am I kidding? This is what i've always felt like. I have always felt this kind of broken. I mean, no one knows. But no one will ever fucking know. That would be failure.

  Oh. here she is - my ‘best friend’ who i claim to love so much. Another day! Here goes, I guess.