Hallow
I am so alone.
Inside I cry, for inside I feel so empty.
Their faces show smiles, but I know that under the skin, in the heart they are disgusted by me.
When they look at me their eyes are frigid, cold, and painful.
Yet I do nothing.
Because when there is no pain, when they do not hurt me, I feel so empty. So when they refuse to hurt me, I do it for them.
The jagged knife defiling my skin.
Ripping the tender muscle.
Scraping the blood covered bone.
Staining my body.
The pain I feel is my purpose, without it I have no reason to live.
For I live to please them, to make them happy.
No matter the cost.
I shall cut my flesh to ribbons if it will make them happy. If not forever, then the moments of total, utter sadness at least. But I will make them happy.
But what will I do if the blood drains from my body before I make them all truly happy?
Or, more likely than not, what will I do when I have made them happy?
When they no longer hate me, or need my pained expressions to survive?
For that is all I'm really good for, I never learned any other ways to please a person.
I only ever learned that to humans another's pain eases their own.
But when they no longer need my pain, what will I do. My reason to live would disappear again. And again I will I will feel empty.
So tell me, what can I do?
When inside I am so alone.
So numb.
So empty.
So Hallow.