i don't know what to title this one...

Once again she pulls  it out from the back of the drawer. The box is covered in dust, which is a good sign, but she wonders if it will ever cease to taunt her. She slides the lid off the warn box & its contents shines in the light. She sighs, frustrated that she’s once again succumbed to the pull of the contents of this tattered cardboard box. She gets that tingling of desire as her fingers reach into the box. She pulls the tiny blade from within & every fiber of her being wants to drag it across her skin like old times. To feel it as it reaches deeper separating skin from skin. She knows it’s a sick & twisted desire, but it’s a desire none the less.  She sighs. This simple piece of silver was a best friend to her for years. It never failed to be there for her, to be by her side when no one else was. It was a comfort when her life had to be hidden from the rest of the world. It provided solitude. Shaking her head, as if such a simple action would loosen the thoughts threatening to strangle her sanity, she flipped the blade over in the palm of her hand. So many memories swarmed through her head. Her hand fluttered out grabbing a chair to help steady her. Those damned memories! Those are the moments that drove her to this piece of metal to begin with. The times in life when curling up in a little ball of protection never helped. It was these memories that corrupted her soul & shattered her person. She held the cool metal between her fingers and wondered if she would ever be whole again. She always tried to keep it together but right now, here, alone, she broke. She broke like she had so many times before, screaming out in pain & anger to the God that had cradled her so many times before. But sometimes in her weakest of moments her anger outweighed all common sense and she begged for a different life, a different past, for different memories. She shuddered as the sobs, they racked her body, and those wretched memories ravaged her mind. How did she get here?  When did that control she’d fought for her entire life escape her grasp? She choked on her own tears as she slipped from the chair to the floor. How had so many years passed and yet she was still so broken? How did the smallest of gestures make her insides shudder and quake like a helpless child? She let the waves of pain and agony sweep over her body. She knew it was pointless to fight the tears once she let that first one fall it seemed like forever before she could pull it together again. She knew the process, she would cry, uncontrollably, until she had cried herself to exhaustion. Then she would pick herself up. She would slide that shiny blade back into its box of protection placing it delicately it in the back of the drawer hiding it, protecting it, from the world.