Kneeling on the familiar, ice like floor I push my hand back; reaching, yearning for that familiar sensation that will, hopefully, alieviete the pain.
My mind swilrs, the bile rises, a welcome taste, like wine to an alcoholic. This is the only way that I can let go- in the little room all of my secrets and fears are flushed out, finished with.
But the freedom is fleeting and all too soon it is gone. Once again my hand plunges back making scars on my throat. Deeper my hand goes, pushing with all the strength my deadened arms have left in them.
Again the sickening sweet taste fills my mouth, this time mixed with the bitter, unmistakable taste of blood.
Tears are pouring down my cheeks, my body’s reaction to the thoughts, too painful to bear,
Swirling constantly through my twisted mind. Again my hand reaches back.