Be careful you don’t cut yourself. The edges are sharp enough to shave with.”Girls don’t shave’, Arya said.’Maybe they should. Have you ever seen the septa’s legs?

Every heart needs a cutting part sharper than a blade to stab agony

And scars will lighten, they’ll pale unless you keep rubbing at them…wait long enough, they’ll fade.

Sometimes I can feel my darkness, like a fragment of nerves inside of me somewhere, sparking my hate. I picture it moving throughout my body, the other cells letting it pass by, yielding to its...

Oh God just look at me now… one night opens words and utters pain… I cannot begin to explain to you… this… I am not here. This is not happening. Oh wait, it is, isn’t...

Could a scar be like the rings of a tree, reopened with each emotional season?

You and your scars. Please! You don’t kill youself like this!” I gesture, holding a wrist turned up to the ceiling, then pretending to cut across it with my other hand. “That’s just a cry...

She closes her eyes, and I can see the moisture. She’s deep-breathing again, and I notice her hands are clutched around the opposing wrists, nails digging in deep, hard, scratching. Pain to replace pain.

I just let the pain take over, allowing it to numb the pain of being left behind.

I tried cutting myself to express my heartbreak over Tommy (Lord Flood) rejecting me, but OMFG it hurts like flaming fuck.

There’s no magical healing in this. I won’t wake up tomorrow fixed and joyful. I’ll still hurt and grieve. But moments like this, with Colton? They make it all bearable. He doesn’t fix me, doesn’t...

Cutting edge, breakthrough, television. That’s what we want to do.

The first time she carved something into her skin, she used the sharp tip of an X-Acto knife. She lifted up her shirt to show me after the cuts had scabbed over. She had scrawled...

Only men would think of cutting themselves to determine who the packleader is. Idiots.

You have to. You can’t bleed it out. You can’t keep pretending, drinking it down.

The fear of an unknown never resolves, because the unknown expands infinitely outward, leaving you to cling pitifully to any small shelter of the known: a cracker has twelve calories; the skin, when cut, bleeds.

I stopped. She was bleeding after all. Perfect lines crossed her wrists, not near any crucial veins, but enough to leave wet red tracks across her skin. She hadn;t hit her veins when she did...

If there’s a severe recession, the automatic stabilizers will come into effect, and we will still try to reduce the structural deficit, but we will not try to keep cutting the budget so that we...

I also know I’m not going to stay away. I’m going to grab onto her and let myself get cut. I’m good at pain. I’m good at bleeding, emotionally and physically.

You give me that. You hold that power and you can take it away.

and afterward, after it was done, it was too much, and I felt like I was going to… I don’t know…. explode, and it was just too much, I had to let it out you...

Cheryl was aided in her search by the Internet. Each time she remembered a name that seemed to be important in her life, she tried to look up that person on the World Wide Web....

It’s the hardest fucking thing. It’s why we drink and do drugs and fight. It’s why I play music and build engines.

Why do I take a blade and slash my arms? Why do I drink myself into a stupor? Why do I swallow bottles of pills and end up in A&E having my stomach pumped? Am...

She was not suicidal; that is what people never managed to grasp. Cutting relieved the pressure and stood as some enduring demonstration of her emotion, some way to be in control of a body that...

I think you’ve got to get out whatever’s hurting you through your art, so it doesn’t twist you up inside.

The door slams in response, and I laugh. I’m glad she can laugh. It means she really is coping. I know she’s internalizing a lot, though. Putting on a show for me. She’ll have new...

Punishments include such things as flashbacks, flooding of unbearable emotions, painful body memories, flooding of memories in which the survivor perpetrated against others, self-harm, and suicide attempts.

Look. I have a strategy. Why expect anything? If you don’t expect anything, you don’t get disappointed.

I know you’re upset, I know you’re scared, but don’t walk away.

In Bio last year, I learned that blood is actually a dark maroon when it’s inside your body. It’s the exposure to oxygen that turns it bright red. And there must have been a lot...

A pattern of raised crisscrossed scars, some old and white, others more recent in various shades of pink and red. Exposing the stress of the structure underneath its paint

I spend my nights thinking the worstAnd telling myself that everything’s going to work outI keep kicking myself in the mouthOpening up every cut that should be a scar by now

You don’t deserve the anger you’re turning on yourself. Your abuser’s the one who does.

I don’t know what to do, I want to die but you’re making me stay alive, I’m not sure if I should betray you and do it or move on and push through it.

she…let the blood spill down instead of tears.

Loss is a knife, constantly cutting, but over time the blade dulls, and the cuts aren’t as sharp. It’s always there in the drawer, but you realize it doesn’t cut as deeply anymore.

We had about 60 regions in Greece and now there are only 13. It’d be like cutting down 50 states to 13 and making it more efficient.

I made the first cut razor thin. A gentle kiss on virgin skin.

The Cutter leaned toward me, resting his forehead against mine. ‘Fool me once,’ he whispered, ‘shame on you.’ He pressed the bridge of his nose against mine, his breath burning the back of my throat....

I locked the door and turned on the water to fill the tub. I made it so hot that I had to get in real slow. I wanted it to hurt; wanted my outside to...