It hurts. These aches… They feel foreign​. Almost unfortunate. They exist. And I let them. I have yet to figure out how not to. I feel weak. Drained. Void. I can not learn how not to. I can not figure out how to save myself. I’m afraid of my own being. I’m unsure of my existence. I can’t help but feel again and again that I’m the one who tied these chains around me. I can’t help but feel like I am drowning. Going down the pit of darkness. Going further apart from myself and in a dimension of my own. These stings are a constant reminder of my misery. I tried so hard and I failed. And I keep failing. I keep hurting. I keep forgetting that my life is just a shell of aches and scars and burns. I may not have them on me for display. But they are etched on my soul. Engraved very carefully so as to reach all depths. Every corner of my sanity. Gripping everything that makes me who I am. I loved all the wrong people. I depended on all the lies that made my stable mind. But now I have no where to go. No more lies to depend on. No more love to smile about. I feel broken. Inside out. In every shade, I feel invisible. Now I know… I’m sure of it… I can no longer hold it. I can no longer hold myself. I can no longer secure my pride. I am broken. Every angle. Every dimension. Every mirror. All show me only the shreds that are left of my being. So please tell me this is just a dream, cause I’m really not fine at all…


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