June 9 2016

It never really gets better...

The past is always reminded, and made sure that I never find peace. It’s painful, every moment I say I’m okay it’s painful. Feeling the boiling water spraying on me from my shower wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough burn. Sitting hardly conscious in the boiling bath wasn’t enough. My feet burned red but my heart was still black. My clashing personalities took over the best of me. I stared at my razor thinking how I could get the blade out. I want my scissors. I want to die, I want to die, I want to die. My mind couldn’t think of any other words. It’s painful. It will always be painful. Pain is a small word; it is the after effects of mistakes that impact you through little things, through denial, through your mother’s voice, through your psychotic memories. The clash between emotionless and extremely emotional gets the best of me. They tear me apart from myself. They tear me apart from my happiness.