This is just something I wrote late at night, feeling, as always, like shit.
Yet again, it describes how I see myself and how I react to emotinall pain in my every day life.
Have a happy angst-reading-time!! :3
I look down at my scarred legs and arms.
It will forever be a reminder of my inner turmoil, my chaos, my pain.
The feelings I have for myself are not lovable, grateful or nize.
…Selfloathing, deep and raw hate…
It consumes me, slowly, every minute of every day. The devouring never stops.
I try to drown my sorrow with alcohol, drugs in various forms… and cutting.
To be able to stab, slize and carve into your own skin, you have to come to a state in your already miserable, fucked up life, when you think you've got nothing more to lose. But then you actually do lose it.
Friends, family; Same shit, different name.
…And all this because of me beeing so caught up in crying inside over what I've lost in myself…
I can't remember who I am anymore.
How my life was before all this shit began destroying everything and everyone in its path.
How wonderful it all would be if I could smile again.
A genuine smile of pure joy, radiating straight from my heart.
It's almost like… my scars show the world how I really look on the inside.
Broken, torn, scattered, lifeless, empty.
And so I slice into my leg again, wanting so badly for the emotionall pain to go away… in the same way the blood continues to flow and drip from deep, open cuts, yet again I'm falling down in my downward spiral of darkness, despairs, insanity, pain, suicidal thoughts and possible even death.
For I am now addicted and will, I believe, forever be…
I close my eyes and I sleep, hoping for a better, brighter tomorrow.
But I fear that tomorrow will never come…
