On occassion

Lou had, on occassion, set upon his skin a blade to cut himself. This was, on occassion, what he needed to keep the pain at bay. On occassion, he cut shallowly for little pains. On occassion, he cut too deeply that he needed stitches. He relished the physicality of the pain. He would wear the scars of pain proudly and could recount every story to every little scar. On occassion he would forget a story or two. Eventually, there were too many stories to remember. And so Lou stopped loving her.

On occassion, Lou would still cut himself. It wasn't crude markings of sharp objects on skin, though. You had to open him up and look into his chest to see the scars. How many of those scars, you may wonder, are yours?

(emo anpootah!)