It Never Matters

"i need you" the text I send to her says. Need her? To reply, of course. Need someone to act like they care. My phone vibrates, she's replied...but I'm still holding my breath.
"What? My boy is over." He's more important, you see, than me. So, whatever I say now is just an interruption to whatever they're doing, which is probably just because they really shouldn't be together. There's no chemistry.
"Nvm." The razor is then suddenly eating up my skin, leaving nasty, deep, long cuts behind. Using my left hand to cut up my right wrist is how it's been for weeks now, even though I'm right handed. Make a sound? Not I. Tears, though, fall from my tired eyes. What a useless little pig... Can't even bite your tongue over minor flaws in a perfect life, can you? The cuts race up my arm in a deadly dance. Finally, finally, the monsters have quieted down and I slip it away.
It never matters how bad the pain is before, it all fades to nothing as a new concern arises...How to hide the pain. I pull on a hoodie and step out of my room, suddenly able to tolerate this world for a few moments longer. Finally, she texts me, wondering what was so wrong.
"Don't worry about it, im good now." See, no matter how big the problem if I can hide that something is wrong, the problem stops mattering. It usually makes someone happy that I can keep this false smile. Whatever the main problem was, at the end it never matters. The problem could be something that freaked me out at the time, something like getting my first crush, but it doesn't seem to have happened after the tense moments where the razor and the hope that someone will call or text, saying they care, is all I know.
Going back into my room, I look up at the blank white ceiling, blood pulsing to my new cuts. Guilt finally settles in and I pick up my phone. "Im trying," the words start flowing, "to get better, but i keep messing up." I send it to her. It never matters, never matters...always matters.