Numb

-Inspired by a poem I read a couple of year back, I forgot the author but the words always stuck with me-

Whenever any problem occurs  she would retreat to the bathroom, this time ahe washed in her thoughts. As she waited for her hair mask she sat with the razor as if it was a long lost friend, she watched its shadow cast over where they used to play, She was so tempted, and it sounds stupid it does. She's  second best in everything that she did, everything and it fucking sucks. She feels numb, and it's stupid because she shouldn't feel like this. She didn't cut, but she wanted to. She knows not to cut, ahe already feels numb the same way she would if she had cut. She's  tired of being second best, with relationships,  in work and just everything. At least to the razor it was always her skin that came first, the pain second and then the blood first. Numb, she feels numb. Constantly, sometimes it's prominent other time it hides in between her laugh. Numbness.