i havent cut for a week now because the last time was too much and there really was blood between all the keys on the telephone, finger prints on the wall, shirts stained with pretty red dots. i remember when people used to be scared for me and jeremy would gather up all his strength and not cry, roll up his sleeves and i would rest my head with my jaw in his neck, shaking and sighing all at once. he would look down and worry there would be an urn where i was standing, filled with ashes that used to be me. your chest expands and contracts, you were a foot taller than me but i never had to get on my toes to kiss you because you bent your knees and your legs fit around mine. it didnt mean much but it means the world to me now.