Pain.
I know no other feeling better than pain.
It fades in like the first mist of rain and clings to my skin as though I am the only force to keep it alive.
I find it in other people's smiles and manner, but mine seeps through my pores, and I wear it like armour.
There are so many types I feel, and it bleeds together into my very own ink.
And with it, I write reassurances that I am fine.
Every time I say those words, my tongue swells, and I'm choking back the truth.
I know it better than my own name, and it's as familiar as my own heartbeat.
I know pain.
Heartbreak.
It's dull and radiates through my chest.
Lost.
Numbs my senses, and I feel nothing.
Weakness.
The people I held close, I now hold at arms length and let others take my place.
Self inflicted, but still it washes over me, and I am sinking in a pool of torment.
I can't break the surface.
I can swim, but the waters are heavy, an anchor, holding me in place.
Don't breathe, you do you die, it'll claw down your throat and flood every chance of survival.
I can feel the burn, the ache, the need for air.
The more I need it, the more it becomes harder.
Pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain
Painpainpainpainpainpainpainpainapainpainpainpainpainpainpain
