The weather this morning suited my mood perfectly.

I stepped out of Geog lecture (Impacts of Rapid Population Growth in Developing Countries) and the sky was wonderfully overcast. I was just in time to catch that gorgeous pause, the almost audible sigh of the sky as it prepared to pour.

I want to stand on the roof, scream and shout and cry until there is nothing left of me, til the rain finally pounds that message home: you are nothing. You do not matter in the grand scheme of things.

what if what if what if

I have come to hate those words.

I feel blades eating into my flesh; spelling out that one letter I know so well, mine, all mine... and the blood runs in ruby rivulets down to stain my fair skin like ink on paper. Or maybe there is no blood? I am tired of thinking.

The lightning drowns out my rage but not the voices in my head that continue to argue and bicker and-

(Brought to you courtesy of my hormones, inferiority complex and that Unavoidable Thing Called Puberty)