Don’t touch the watch

I would just like to point out that I am glad the guys I know, DON’T read this blog. All they would do is make fun of me, to no end. OK so with that, I think that I am going to get started on today’s entry. Another wonderful point I would like to make is that this is NOT real. The promise that was made was to two very important people in my life and is still being upheld. It has not been broken since its initial..uh making. Let’s begin.
 
I watch her. I see what she does when she thinks no one is around. Breaking the most important promise she has ever made. The cold, sharp metal parts her delicate skin so sweetly; just deep enough to coax the syrupy flow of crimson essence. I observe her self destructive behaviour, completely powerless to stop it or help her. She unknowingly forces me to watch her bleed her life away. The blood drips off her wrist and pools on the ruled notebook paper in her lap. She cries as she watches each drop shatter the control she held over her actions. If I could, I know I would sob until I had no tears left inside me. But I remain silent, hidden in plain sight of her life. Each night, alone in her room, I watch her. It’s the same thing, over and over; like a bad rerun you watch with your eyes glued open. After her tears subside and she gives in to the sandman, I often wonder if she’ll ever be in control. She was once. There was a time when this beautiful, wonderful person went to bed with a smile and a positive outlook on tomorrow. But those days are gone agian. The routine is back. All those feelings of self doubt and worthlessness poured down on her like a monsoon. I want to help her, shout out that she is better than this horrible darkness that shrouds her soul. But what can I do? I don’t have the voice to help.
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About triztron

I don't really live in a place called Brockvegas. It's called Brockville.
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