Enjoy, squirm, like, hate, I don’t care. I know my stuff can be pretty dark for such a light title to a website. I am a very sad dog, but this is from a very sad time in my life. Post in the comments if you liked it. Tell me what you want to see and I will provide. There will be more coming if you like this kind of stuff.
Dedicated to my mother
I was so nervous to go to the clinic that the night before I cut myself so deep I could see the stark white connective tissue of my arm. I was instantly reminded of my father’s story of when he tried to kill himself. He said fat leaked out of his arm. I could picture the fat pouring out like slugs, but that didn’t happen with me. Mine wasn’t deep enough. And mine was made in anxiety like all the other little cuts that neighbored it, I pressed too hard with this one. Although it’s hard to describe every fish of thought in the stormy ocean that was my mind that night. I now wanted to live, because I wrapped my arm in a red towel, I’ll never forget that irony.
It wouldn’t stop bleeding. It stung, for my insides were forced to feel the outside air. Blood beads up from small slices, but rushes forward bravely when the gates of skin are left swinging. Every time I carefully removed the towel, the blood swelled like soap from a sponge. All I could see was scenarios where I had to wake my parents, so I would have to get stitches. How would I explain a cut so deep without my mother yelling?
I searched through our cabinets of the kitchen, a feat much more difficult with only one hand. I couldn’t find gauze or medical tape for the life of me, so I proceeded to scavenge through our junk drawers of which we have several. The kitchen light was bright white compared to the pitch black outside. The last time I dared to look at a clock it was four. I was used to this time, lived through many a night being awake at this time. I finally found what I wanted, a roll of masking tape. I took it and wound it around my arm. Then one last piece over the laceration itself. Somehow, at some time when the light was dim through my bedroom window I went to sleep. I slept.
Continue reading “Clinic Part One”