How?

There's only one thing that I want to do right now. Well two now. Two things calling to me and drawing me in. Run away. Cut. Run away. Cut. Get Away. Cut. Be alone. Cut. Stop hurting them. Cut. Run away. Cut. Run away forever.
            Run away from my mind. From the thoughts I do not want to deal with right now. Run away from the choices I do not want to make right now. Run away from the people around me. That way they won't have to deal with me, and I won't have to deal with them. How can I love something and want to leave it? To prevent destruction, or to feel comfortable and safe in isolation? Run away from this place. From home and all it's memories. From this town and all the people who know my story, those who judge me on it. From all the institutions and places the constantly tell me how worthless I am. And, even though it greatly pains me, even from God it'd seem. I'm running from him....running towards something that I can't see....darkness? As if it could even hide me. But it seems as though I'm still trying....and paying the price of such an attempt. It is possible to die while still physically alive. Trust me, I've seen it. I've felt it. It's possible to bring back such a dead soul, but something is always missing....
           Cut. Cut. Up and down. Clean skin or already marred. I wouldn't see the difference once I gave myself over to that beast hiding in my mind. Once I morphed into the monster in me, the part of me, that can run a blade against it's own skin....and not give a damn about what could happen. That's the truth...if I gave in again, I would no longer care what happened to me. The shame, the feeling of weakness, having to face such a failure, the guilt, the pain it'd cause those who care about me (maybe they wouldn't care?)....I wouldn't be able to process it or handle it. Chances are I'd wish for death instead of having to face it.....There are still days when I'm not sure why I'm still sticking around. Still breathing when everything seems so moot and pointless and bleak. When everything blurs together into one big canvas of grey, black, white, and occasional patches of red.
             Anger....pain....joy.....sadness. What's the point? Why feel? Why should I want to feel? So I can appreciate happiness and remember beautiful moments? Only to crash later when remembering better times....I don't want to feel. Plain and simple. And that's why I'll  never be able to get any better I guess. Because I can't see the point. More than that....I'm just afraid. Actually, I'm terrified. And I just don't know how to handle that.

I just don't know how to live......