TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM, SU*C*DE
It’s 11:00 at night
I wake up to red
One of those nights when the blade is the master of my body, when silence becomes my language
5 minutes later, Didi tells me stress doesn’t bring scratches on your body
I tell her red makes me feel alive
26 minutes have passed
I counted each second in every minute
In there each part of me relived
Each time different shades followed
It doesn’t feel like an other panic attack but more like the war where death has already won
Words don’t lie but what are words if not emotions written in stanzas
What are they but everything I am too scared to accept?
It’s 11:59
And no, nothing’s never going to be fine because
When did i become the reason i cry every night?
When did death become my ray of light?
When did me dressed in red become my favourite sight?
When did it change to white?
12:00
I sleep to black
-Vanika Wahi
