I am sick of myself. I am disgusted by the person I have become. I do not wish to start over, do not wish to turn back time. I simply wish that I could be lost in the darkness, unconscious, unfeeling, unknowing. Something other than the revulsion I feel every time my thoughts catch me by surprise. Something other than the repulsion I feel every time I see my own image staring back at me. Something other than the loathing I feel for who I am, who I must always be.
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Thoughts
PoetryI have too many thoughts inside my head, but I can't get myself to tell anyone who might care.