I cut myself last night and the blood was so thin from wine that I bled sheer water.
I've never been so scared. I've never been so satisfied.
I destroyed everything in my path until I reached an almost instant calm...
Looking back at my destruction was like this squeezing ache up in my heart.
So much blood from three small slices.
So little words to cause such silence.
These scares will be forever... like the forever motion of my storm inside.
And I spin, and I spin, and I spin around you.
And I spin, and I spin, and I spin around me.
And I'd love, nothing more... to simply say I'm sorry.
But I'm still drunk--- hours later--- and I'm not.
These moments of destruction are what define me.
These moments of destruction are so far from me, being me.
I always say, "I don't need saving..." (but possibly, I do?)