Lies of A Needle-Addict Soul

Hello. I am addicted to my needles.

I live my days alone, even when I am surrounded by friends, because the needles control me. I promised my friend, the one who knows the truth behind some of my lies, that I would stay strong. I tried. I honestly tried to not go back there again. I have been so close to suicide in the past that I figured it would be better to promise and make my friend feel okay. But in reality, the needles are always there. Not only the sharp metal ones in my skin, but all the painful, shameful thoughts and emotions and memories that weigh me down every day.

Needles are so......exquisite. There is a certain refinement and delicacy about them. I find that it hurts a lot more to drag a needle over your skin a few dozen times until you start to bleed than a single, quick cut with a knife. I know because I have befriended both in the past.

Sometimes, friends or family notice the thin red lines, or they see the deap stupor of the morning after I've gone too far, again. People say its unhealthy to keep your feelings bottled up inside, but isn't that better than exposing yourself to those who would hurt you?

To that friend, you know who you are, I'm sorry. I tried.

The Girl in the Corner