Far Away

April 30, 2013
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So you've been cutting.




What exactly were you expecting me to say?

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!”

“I feel so bad for you!”

“I wish I could take your pain away!”

I could say any of those things.

But it wouldn't matter.

Not one bit.

Because you haven't been talking to me.

So how am I supposed to communicate my feelings?


Tell me.

Tell me!

Do you have any idea what it's like?

I see those cuts all over your arms...

And I just want to fade away.

Did I cause those?

Did I?

I did, didn't I...

“I'm sorry.”

That's what I want to say.

But I can't.

I won't.

My brain won't let me.

So here I am.

Just standing here.

You're over there.

We're only a few feet apart.

Hardly a distance at all, it seems.

But that's a lie.

There are miles between us -

Invisible, un-see-able,

But very feel-able.

And that empty space between us...

It feels like the empty space in my heart.

The space I've been trying to fill with something -


But without you...


Enough of my pointless sob story.

Quit cutting yourself, you moron.

Because I'm silently begging you to stop.

Because I hate to see you do this to yourself.



Because I love you.

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