Life, sometimes you wonder if it's all worth it. Watching the crimson drip slowly down your arm, it facinates you. How could it's slow, almost seductive crawl not? How could the warm tickle of small hairs being coated in the stickey red liquid not entrance you? You could lick it clean, or even go and wipe it off, but where would the fun in that be? Sighing you simply sit back in the steel, stiff chair and continue to watch, letting your thoughts wander. is it worth going home? They snap at you, they degrade you, they have replaced you in their lives, in their so-called family. And yet, the next day they smile, they laugh, they treat you like you had once been treated. What about the others? What about those who have been lied about, and lied to? Do you return to argue their side once more? Or do you let it all simply drift away? Drift away like that small crimson line that seems to grow longer by the second. Your thoughts are dashed from your mind as the woman hands you a small open alcahol swab, allowing you to clean your finger and wrist with it, and one more. You warned her that finger bled easily last time. Maybe the sting will return tomarrow, when your next victum is the inside of your elbow. Maybe then you can forget it all.

T! Save Me!