“What do you mean you don’t want me?”

You’re my demons.

You’re messing up my life.

You’ve ruined relationships.

I don’t have space for you anymore.

“You don’t have space? Oh… Rylee…

Isn’t that what your aunt told your mom?”

You’re getting inside my head.

You want me to get the knife.

This time I won’t slit my wrists.

And you know it.

“This time… you’ll pick up the shiny

blade… you’ll stick it into your stomach.

And you’ll pull it out. And you’ll count.

How. Many. Times. You. Can. Go.”

I’ll take out all my anger on me.

Because no one deserves it-

Other than me.

Right?

“That’s right.”