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smaller than life.

I slipped and my left hand went through a window.
Industrial glass. Wonder how it broke.
A shard ripped my wrist open, parallel to my veins.
I was rushed to the ICU.
Lots of blood. Oozing though, not spraying.
They stitched me up quick at the hospital.
They put my lower arm in plaster.
Then I was referred to a crisis counsellor.
I had to wait over an hour.
I bought myself a Coke and Pringles from the machine.
The counsellor had a windowless office.
He asked me if’d I wanted to kill myself.
If I’d pushed my hand through the glass on purpose.
I thought he was kidding me.
He gave me a brochure on self-harm and suicide.
And a helpline number.
He suggested I join I group.
Wrist-Slashers-Anonymous. Or something like that.
Dude! I slipped!
He wouldn’t budge.
Said he’d only release me to a family member or a close friend.
No family member would make the trip to pick me up.
I texted Jad from work.
Only person I know with access to a vehicle.
Said I’d cover two of his night shifts in exchange.
He arrived, driving the company van.
I explained to him what’d happened.
Jad said, “You slashed your fucking wrist?”


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