Help wanted... NEEDED

Same old, same old.

Stand in the bathroom with the door locked.

One leg up on the stool in front of me.

Razor opened and ready.

Press the cool blade against my mouth, enjoying the cold.

Press the sharp edge of the blade nonchalantly against my thigh.

Sometimes i tilt my head to the side.

But today i just gaze emotionlessly at the blade.

Thinking about what i read once about "the understated glow of the knife"

A sharp, quick motion

But today it's different.

So wide, so deep, i wouldn't be surprised if it needs stitches.

I wait for the fear, the screaming, maybe.

Nothing, except my heart beats a little faster than before.

I question myself.

Is it fear?

I expected it to be.

But no, i think it was the feeling of unexplainable control

The one i get when i spit out a mouthful of food.

I don't know how it got there.

I really don't.

I squeeze the gash- this time gash, not cut.

Too big, you see.

A blood clot oozes out,

Rolls down my thigh.

Red beads follow.

The story continues in the same fashion

Soon my fingers are a bloody mess.

I've even managed to coax out more clots,

Now there's more than one red streak on my thigh.

All the while i'm waiting for the freak-out moment,

The physical pain that i should definitely be feeling.

Still nothing.

So i pick the blade up.

Look at it.

Wait for the moment of

"Fuck,

Why am i doing this to myself?

I need to stop

To tell someone so they'll stop me

To do something about this shit"

But nothing.

I even say aloud

"come on now. Feel it. Say it."

Nada.

I look at the big, deep gash on my thigh in the mirror.

Why won't the moment of realization come?

No tears even.

The gash is so big,

At least it should be throbbing.

Right?

I can't remember the last time i've felt so numb.

So numb i left the razor on the sink top.

Well, shit.