Hold It In

What Can I Say?...

I cut myself today. One pink razor, six sharp lines, three bandages.
The pain helps, but the feelings are still there.
I want to explode, because I can't hold it in anymore. I'm too old for this and that right there adds another weight to the pile already crushing me.
The pain of knowing that I can never do anything right. That I can never fix my mistakes, because too late, too many.
The shame of being a child in an adult's body, because anxiety is holding me down. The knowledge that I'm just gonna fuck it up and disappoint you - again and again and again.
The drowning sorrow of knowing you hate me so much and I can't fix it - You've stated so.
I'm sorry - Oh wait, you hate when I continually apologize, even when I'm not at fault. I feel like it though. Like I have to apologize for everything. Or quickly run around and make sure everything is in order - even though it won't fix anything.
The heartbroken feeling of knowing you've hated me since Day One.
Sometimes I wonder, if I was gone, would everything be better?
But I hold it in, hoping that it'll get better - it might. Hope guides, but its a double edge sword.
So I paste a smile for the world, hide my scares, and continue on.