The first snow turns the world inot a cold and desolate place. The blood coursing through my veins seems to freeze over and my body slows, worn with the effort of trying to make it through the day. All of this leaves me with an intense longing to slit my wrists for no reason other than to see the deep, pure crimson trickling into a pool on the floor. A reminder that there is life inside these bones, blood pumping through my veins and keeping me alive. I feel like I'm living on sheer willpower and it's only a matter of time before it runs out, before the alarm goes off signaling that my time is up.

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