Upon my right wrist used to live a rubberband…

This rubberband’s daily mission was to snap a sharp sting that would shoot up from my vein all the way up to my brain…

That sharp sting would annihilate the current toxic thought of wanting to murder my name…

All through high school this rubberband fought tirelessly to save my existence…

Today, that rubberband has been replaced by this life line embedded underneath this scarred skin. This ink’s purpose is that of a promise made to another human that I would never again attempt to take my own life…

Upon my right arm lives the memory of a rubberband.

Neon Gravestones try to call for my bones… -Twenty One Pilots

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