I'm sick, both mentally and physically, my call for helps are lowered. I've been drugged and it felt like torture. Torture of my mind, body, and soul. And my head, my poor worthless brain, the thoughts and process of my life, the never-ending whirring and stirring and bleeding. Oh it does bleed, when I imagine the cuts, when I feel the burns, I don't have scars though. I feel this whirring, the sounds, the noises, the bleeding, this never-ending ringing in my ears, my thoughts feeling like they are different, not mine, not my mind. Oh help me please., Or don't, I don't care, I just feel dizzy and sick, this emotional forfeit. This tidal wave of nothing. Oh please will you listen, to my cries and agony, to my soul being ripped. They wonder why I hurt, and they ask why I am like this, but I cannot answer, this is not the life I chose to live. I am sick. Sick and it won't ever go away. And this sickens me to the extent of suicide, but I don't want to, I want to be free, I want to live, I want to be loved. Why am I sick...?
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Stories
HorrorA collection of my short stories, updated throughout the years to come Enjoy Also remember to vote and comment, thanks :)
