I think I hate myself more these days, more than I ever did in my life.
Cause somehow everything else is just fixed.
Through the years things fixed themselves, they really did.
And now, somehow the only broken part of my life left is me.
-someone whom I do not even recognise as myself.
I ran, hid, avoided, faced, cried, laughed, loved, hurt, isolated, oversocialised, pretended, questioned, talked, ignored, stayed quiet, screamed, found people, left alone, confused, over aware, hated, respected, feeling so much, feeling nothing, trying to feel something, trying to feel nothing, slf harmd, tried to not sh, gave up, stuck to hope, broke my very soul to dust and somehow guiltily held it back together alone in a heap.
The very heap that is the only broken part left of the remains of me that I no longer recognise as my own.