Bleeding

Authors note: This is really old but I figured posting about it because I'm not gonna use in anywhere else cause I don't usually use this POV anyway.

Again I would like to issue a trigger warning. It mentions blood and negative feelings.

I felt the blood drip down to the tips of my fingers. It reminded me of the rain, or morning dew slowly dripping from leaves.

You know I don’t think they would miss me. I don’t think I would miss them either. I guess thats why I didn’t feel the words come out of my mouth that I should have. Maybe that’s why I left the party that night in silence. A room full of people and not a single person to say goodbye to.

Sometimes I look at where I am and think I must be a ghost. Sometimes I love it but there is something painful about knowing no one will miss you. I guess that was the reason the burn on my hand didn’t bother me.

When I got home I bandaged the gash. Well I wouldn’t call it gash there was just a bit of blood. I always had the weird love for band-aids. I always wanted an excuse to use one. Well now I had one, only the blood soaked through all of the small ones I had. I could tell that I would have to use a lot of them. A bunch of band-aids were now jumbled into one big patch. It was probably gonna fall off in my sleep but for now I enjoyed the satisfaction of the patch neatly covering the scar.