I try to tell myself I'm worth something.
I'll look in the mirror and try repeating everything I've ever loved about myself.
Until I realise I don't have anything to say.
That who I see in the mirror doesn't feel like me. That same face that I've seen reflected back a million times before isn't me.
I don't think this body can hold me.
I don't think this body is mine, but I'm stuck, and I don't know how to get out.
I'll sink my teeth into skin to remind myself that I am here, that this body is mine, but all it ever does is bruise.
Leave marks that remind me that I am flesh and bone and broken parts that don't work.
That I am aching,
And I am so tired of aching.
- - -
(A short one this time because I'm just so very tired)
YOU ARE READING
The diary of Seth Alexander
Non-Fictionas the title suggests, this is legit going to be my diary. and yes, most diaries are supposed to be secret, but I have always been an open book. I like to pretend to be mysterious, but the people around me will all tell you that I am am someone who...
