The familiar ache I expected that would rapture in my heart at your harsh words... never came. Now I stand, ankle-deep in my own delusion and wondering where I went wrong. What happened to me for the last emotions I felt to no longer show? To no longer ache after your words and spiral into my own personal, quiet hell?
Why am I wishing it still hurt, still tore at my heart like your words did my mind? Where the searing flashes of pain would remind me why I'm not good enough, why I'll never be good enough...
Why do I beg for it when I only feel the void in my chest? The pain that seared through my veins is now absent, and I wish only for it to be back when I empty the black from my soul onto my skin.Red litters my arms, pretty and pink. Weeping cuts of liquid Ruby fill the void in my head and calm my mind. I need 911 but I can't be bothered. Can't be bothered to ask for help unless it's the silent cry that leaves my lips as crystals of clear leave my glassy eyes.
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Musings and drabbles
General FictionRandom short writings and pieces, all done by me. They can and will get dark.
