I feel so useless, unable to help others, withdrawing into myself, for no one needs me anymore. So much time spent consoling and advising, the reason I lived; those who know the call of the blade reaching out for me, wanting my help. And now... now, I am a futile gesture made to an aged lie, turned into the desperate bloody maiden drowning in her own tears. (do you feel sorry for me? or disgusted by me?) I have no idea where to go from here; ideas fleeting, falling through the cracks of my soul, the shards of glass having penetrated too deeply for the wounds to heal. I cannot help but be who I am... but is what I am all, or nothing?