I'm on my third shot of Schnapps.

*pours the fourth to be ready* ...the blood when you beat me...

Amazing how much I hate myself for opening up, sometimes. I want to lock it all back, pretend it never happened. I'm cutting my hair tonight, symbolic it is, important to me, and now it's going to be cut short until I can stand to be myself again. Jax has long hair, you see. I want long hair.

But my self-defense demands short, spiky hair... don't ask. It's a thing.

*starts sipping the fourth shot*

Damn. Alcohol. Drunk. It'll be good to be drunk, just now. No tears, no, I'm not crying over anything as foolish as how I feel but... would it matter to anyone to know that I regret the passing of someone I never met? Her loss hurt someone. I won't kill myself, won't ever die if I can avoid it. I don't want to hurt anyone like that, not that way, not that long, not that deep. Death is forever, in this world.

Introspective, and I can't spell - four shots are already working on me. Down the hatch with the fifth, soon... *pours it*

I don't exist.

if i'm not the crack of the cork
and the shot in the arm across
the room like a four alarm
some kind of danger
i look that way
you will try to be cool
with little to say
i can't be the calm
your bottle of wine
i have to be a quarter
not a nickel and dimes
i want to be the prayer
answered when you meet me
the pain the bat the blood
when you beat me

Do it... just do it... just do it... I want to be the prayer answered when you meet me... I want the pain, the blood when you beat me... I want the taste of freedom when you greet me... I want the hope, don't want to be me... the pain, the bat, and the blood when you beat me...

...I want...

No. Go away. This is not sober Jax, this is not happy Jax, this is not Domme Jax, this is just me, a human, sad, curled up not crying not dying but hurting so much that nothing seems worth having. Yeah, I know, fierce wicked Jax shouldn't have such feelings, I should be the strong one, the tough one, the one that keeps going, and instead I'm the one who is lying here showing you just how much I ache when it's dark and no one's around, no walk in the park, I'm falling apart and bursting at the seams and all I can do is let out the screams in fast-type text - can you keep up the pace - 'cause I'm finally flying, I can't see my own face, can't see my own evil or the darkness I wear, can't see the destruction and the anguish I share...

...the pain, the bat, and the blood when you beat me...

...nothing I want but a chance to remake the universe I'm trapped in, taking out the hate and the rage and the fear that are keeping me caught in this cage of a mind when all I want is to get the fuck out and be me again but there's none of me left, and this is the end...

...the pain, the bat, and the blood when you beat me...

...the pain, the bat, and the blood when you beat me...

...just do it...

...do it...

if i'm not the crack of the cork
and the shot in the arm across
the room like a four alarm
some kind of danger
i look that way
you will try to be cool
with little to say
i can't be the calm
your bottle of wine
i have to be a quarter
not a nickel and dimes
i want to be the prayer
answered when you meet me
the pain the bat the blood

when you beat me...