Again, falling

Im having those thoughts often again. They are a little different though. Instead of not telling anyone anything and just dieing, I now picture that I would like to send the boy a message on facebook telling him I like him, then go die. I wouldnt tell him I plan to die but just that I fancy him. Seven slices on my arm for that. Ten more because my older brother said I would be fat this time next year. Three more for the stuff I ate today. One more because Im starving and my parents wont go to the store. Three more because I hate myself for being weak. Another three for the fucking tears that are falling. One more for the hate I feel towards others. A pause in the process because my parents walked in. I wait and absorb the pain that isnt pain but feels good. I cant explain it. I will take this pause to reflect on what my best friends would say if I could tell them. If I had the guts to tell them what I do and the extent of covering my wounds. How the self treatment quit working. How the self respect crumbled under the blade and blood. How I cry out for help but only for it to come out mute and with no voice. How Ive given in to the battle and let the world beat me so low, I cant return. I starve myself when Im angry, and if I give in to the pain of hunger, I lose that much more self respect. All I want is for someone to tell me its okay or at least listen to me if not for a minute. Another four cuts for finding out my parents ditch my brothers soccer game and went to eat while, they texted me to say we will eat when they get home. Another tear because Im weak. Another excuss that the dog jumped on me and made those marks. Im so done with life. Im still here to see if I am a coward or if Im brave and will talk to him. When I go, buiry me in my black dress. Thats my only request. hiding Roki