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HUGE TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF-HARM, SUICIDE, AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS. READ WITH CAUTION.
Running a finger along the edge of his blade, Miles felt more at peace than he ever had before. He was in control. He was the one doing this. He was the one encouraging heaps of clogged up fat to finally leave his body.
He was weak, but he was in control.
Phoenix hadn't gotten this carried away, had he? It was just some quick relief, a few cuts to free the mucus most desperately needing to be freed from the confines of his body.
No, both his arms were covered in cuts, the angle different to what he had gotten used to.He hadn't done it.
Was his body breaking? Was he finally crumbling?
He didn't know what was happening, but he was thankful for it. It didn't hurt, it simply felt freeing. The wounds weren't his, neither was his body.

