i hate that no harm contract.  it's just a fucking piece of paper with my fucking signature on it but i have imbued it with disproportionate powers.  how else to explain the overwhelming urge to cut or to fuck and not following either of them?  how else to explain the lust i have for just one moment of relief and yet leave myself aching and empty?  without it i could let the euphoria take me and be released from this restless state.  instead my breathing is quick and i'm shaking.  my only lifeline a fucking pill that will insulate me from what i'm feeling.  and where does the feeling go?  off into oblivion?  would that it were so.  no, the feeling flows out sluggishly, an emotional tidal surge returning to its source.  and the source, well it stays.  hungry and wary, awaiting the next opportunity to rush in.  no stealth, no finesse.  just an assault meant to crush and punish.  i stand alone with just a fucking piece of paper to save me.  a contract signed to deny the demons inside me from having their way.  i ache to take it back.  i long to let the demons out to play so the landslide of temptation could sweep me along.  if not for one stupid, fucking piece of paper, i could feel sane right now.