"I don't want love because I don't deserve it.
I don't want help because others need it more.
I don't like pity because it hurts me.
I don't want to be saved because for once I want to be able to do the saving.
I know I should be getting help but as soon as I get better I convince myself that it won't last. I crush my own dreams.
I'm dangerous to myself, I'm a poison, that kills everyone and everything around me including myself.
The hatred I have for myself blooms at the moments when I finally start to feel okay. The only form of medication I have for this is making myself numb.
One day I'm afraid I'll be numb to disappointment. I'm at a place in the moment that disappointment is a thrilling ache.
I'm not lovable, savable, or helpable because I don't want to be.
I've grown used to the ache of these familiar pains.
I'm numb to all feelings except one.
For some reason I just can't get used to disappointment. Whether that's a good thing or a bad one is debatable.
It means I can still feel and it might not be too late. It also means I'll never be okay but I want to be.
I want the numbness to drown me like ocean waves.
I'm broken and I've been trying to tape it together with dirty, old Scotch tape."
-L
YOU ARE READING
A series of options Left Behind In Words And Letters
PoetryThoughts, feelings and moments of my past, present and future written down. I can't say much but I like to think that they're goodish. You and I, we're an ocean of love and hatred. A land of chaos and peace, a battle that we're losing with love and...
