Enter the dark room.
Scissors going hack, hack, hackity, hack. Been so long, now, I'm not too sure how to get it. Splintering, slowly. A glint of silver.
"Come on, you bastard".
Loose. That's it, baby.
Now, let's play naughts and crosses.
Crisscross, hopscotch.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Oh, and THIS isn't about self-harm. Oh no. Not at all.
ReplyDelete*frowns*
Well, you can leave that silver alone. We're (basically) clean now.
Old habits die hard, but they DO die. :3