She yearned and sought for validation in the most awful places - the leering boy on the street, strangers online, and she gained a sick sense of satisfaction from receiving what she did not have the heart to offer herself - acceptance. There is not a feeling remotely comparable in any way to that of feeling like a stranger in one's own skin. And on some days, the inexplicable urge to slice off layer by layer of flesh became almost all too much to bear. She desired love - from herself, from him whom she loved, but the former was proving to be increasingly impossible to achieve as her days grew more bleak. She wanted nothing more than to separate her soul, rip it apart from the revolting masses of flesh and bones and blood residing within her vomit-inducing frame. She longed to see what others saw in her, but she looked into the mirror and the only thing which echoed in her head was the word 'liars'. Fucking liars. There are times when the self-loathing becomes bone-deep, and this was one of those times. Even reassurances were of no help any longer - nothing could stop her from helplessly digging her nails into her forearms, praying that by some miracle the physical pain would overpower the treacherous thoughts rapidly overtaking her mind.
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YOU ARE READING
Heartbreak Hotel
RomanceAn ode to my love for you, as a form of validation of everything between us, no matter how brief a time our paths have crossed. ~Till we meet again, my love. {Nothing here is pretty, nothing here is structured. Some are pieces of poetry, others del...
