Cold sweat, sweaty palms, rusty blades. Slowly drips of blood run down my arms. The pain, it's just so satisfying in every way. You just want to do it over and over again till your entire arm is numbed from the pain and covered in blood. 

Then you start thinking of the people you look, how they feel when they see the scars and open wound. Tears falling down your cheek, regrets rushing in. 

You're in a dilemma. Do something that helps you deal with your pain or look okay for the people you love? 

You pick up the blade one more time, just staring at it. You're torn between your own decisions. 

Then you realize it didn't matter anymore. No one is going to understand you anyways. You just have to suck it up and deal with your own shit and put on a fake ass smile so people don't sympathise your pathetic ass. So do whatever the fuck you want. 

You tried.