ripley sloane. five. cbd1

i fucked a boy one time just so that i could say something cruel about him afterward. rode my bike off of a cliffside and tore through every single piece of exposed skin that i possibly could just so that i could see what it might feel like to fly, just to see if maybe, when i was spitting blood onto the rocks after and pushing my hair out of my face, if i would be able to taste god among the iron. i take a lollipop off the school counselors desk and put my fist through a wall ten minutes after she tells me that she thinks i need to get professional help.

i have never gone a week without splitting open my knuckles, try not to say anything when people ask me all of the hard questions because what do i tell them when they only thing going on inside of my head all of the time is one long scream.

do you just like destroying yourself?
no (that's a lie)
yes (that's a lie too)

the boy im sleeping with asks me if i got in a fight while we're sitting together on his bed, looks at my split knuckles and then back and forth between my eyes.

i don't tell him yes.

i dont tell him it was with myself.

i grab him by the back of the neck and i kiss him until my lips start bleeding and i can taste iron in my mouth again and again and again.

tell me where to put this anger.
tell me where to put this anger.
tell me where to put this anger.