“We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.”

“He imagined the door to a sad, empty room closing with a faint click, never to be opened again, and that calmed him a little.”

“She can paint a lovely picture, but this story has a twist. her paintbrush is a razor, and her canvas is her wrist.”

“Writing. Opening a vein in your wrist with a spoon.”

“But there was still something missing. Something that nagged at her-an emptiness she couldn't explain. There were mornings she woke with her heart pounding wildly and the sensation of arms wrapped around her. But the feeling slipped away the moment she opened her eyes, and no matter how quickly she squeezed them shut, she couldn't recapture the contentment she'd felt.”

“She can paint a pretty picture but this story has a twist. The paintbrush is a razor and the canvas is her wrist.”