Split Screen Sadness

I had been staring down at my French Final outlines. A long, yet small, rectangular piece of cardboard that had been folded twice lay in the corner of the purple paper. Razorblade sitting right near it, and there I sat, watching the tiny droplets of blood escape from the cut I had made. Three cuts I had made, actually. My music blaring, I did not hear anyone enter the room, but I saw the black bur in the corner of my eye. I immediately leaned back and hid my arms. Phill smiled and asked me what I was hiding. I replied, "nothing." He had noticed the razorblade, but decided to take nothing of it. He asked what I was hiding again, and I replied, "I'm just trying to be cute!" He leaned over and gave me a kiss. My hand fumbled on the worksheet, trying to get a hold of the razorblade to hide it. I failed that and he noticed it. He made me show him my arms, and once he saw those three fresh cuts, he began to walk out of my room. I grasped his arm, and I begged him not to leave and to let me explain, but he pushed my hand off of his arm. His warm brown eyes that bring me so much comfort and hope were now a blaze with a fire that shouted, "I can't believe you broke a promise to me. Fuck you!"

I took that razorblade and jammed it into my wrist. Phill saw it, his reactions went quick, and he took the razorblade from me and threw it in my closet. I started crying and he just looked at the cut. It was deep, and it was bleeding pretty bad. I stood up to go get some toilet paper, the blood leaking down and dripping off of my fingertip. He ran into the bathroom, got some toilet paper, and put it onto the cut, applying pressure. Oh yes, how fun! I had to explain to him why I did it... Just, fuck... There's so much I told him. After the bleeding stopped, we just talked about it all. Y'know, it's really hard to be happy when you're bouncing off of the walls, and the one who means the world to you is still fucking depressed after all that you've tried... I feel like giving up a lot.

I really do mask how I feel. If I'm happy, do I say anything? No. If I'm sad, do I say anything? Sometimes. If I'm angry, do I say anything? Yeah. If I'm proud, do I say anything? Do I take the time to tell the people I love that I love and care for them? No.

Then I have Frank wanting to push me to talk to Nikki, though we all know that she's gonna' make up some shit to break me. You know, I know Phill doesn't like hearing about this, or talking about it, but shit.. It knocked down some of my trust in him, and now I'm worried that I'm going to give him all of my hope and love, and he's going to turn around and dump me.

I'm fucking tired. I think I'll just wake up two hours later after I eat, and work on my project.
And you just don't get it
You keep it copecetic
And you learn to accept it
You know you're so pathetic
[ Copecetic ]