And then this pain comes, searing into flesh and cutting through bone like it's cloth.

Unsteady and shaking, it is all she can do to hang on to these words.
But all she knows is this unfathomable, ineffable pain that's burning the inside of her veins, eating away at all the things that keep her together.

Forces a smile she knows you cannot see, managing a
"Nothing"
Because that, that's kinda what it is. It isn't anything until you make it something. And it isn't supposed to be anything to begin with anyway.



Nothing.
It's nothing,
It's nothing, it's nothing.

And if she says it enough,
maybe it'll dull all the razor sharp blades that feel like they're running patterns on the inside of her skin,
Maybe it'll stop the way she hates herself for feeling all the things she does,
Maybe it'll make her feel less like an idiot,
Like she is the biggest fool in a game she didn't ask to play.


It's nothing.
It's nothing.
It's nothing.