I give myself good advice. But I very seldom follow it.
When you get bored with hurting yourself, you let others do it for you. And it's always worse than anything I have every done to myself. Convince yourself its ok, this wont happen again. You wont be as stupid the next time and you'll know when to fucking run.
And it ends in a trail of sticky blood and black tears.
But its a chain reaction. And they fall like dominoes.
If all you know is pain, then all you get is pain. And if you try for anything else, all you get is pain.
Why do I have blood in my veins. Why do I have a beating heart. I want to rip it out and throw it in the fucking garbage, where it fucking belongs. I put faith into each breathe I take and then I choke.
Self medicate to suppress the hate. Love on drugs is a beautiful thing. But it ends in a crash and you catch fire.
If you did the same thing sober you would cry much sooner. Maybe run away in time. But you cant.
So pick a poison. Drink,Smoke,Shoot up, Snort up. Fucked up. Now your body is a mess.
My mind has decayed from lonely madness, suppressed love, a war on my body for beauty, a war on my mind for clarity.
What makes me any different? I do this to myself, and I refuse any kind of help.
I build a wall. I am introverted. I have too much time to think. On everything that happens to me.
You know you are crazy when you do the same exact thing over and over expecting different results.Theres a big fucking warning sign each time the electric fence burns you. Scars you for life. You spend time healing and then start again.
If you can look back at anything that left scars. You have a reminder of what that pain felt like. And how deep was that cut? Now people can see the pain you felt right on your sleeve. Even if that scar is on the inside, you cant really hide it.
But how good did it feel at the time?
Now I'm just an exotic animal. Its fun to look at me and fantasize. But never step inside that cage.
There are woman who make much better house pets.
And if anyone gets close, they admit how they feel about you before you come to terms with it, you fucking run. How could anyone care about this fucking monster. A fucking disaster.
When you get bored with hurting yourself, you let others do it for you. And it's always worse than anything I have every done to myself. Convince yourself its ok, this wont happen again. You wont be as stupid the next time and you'll know when to fucking run.
And it ends in a trail of sticky blood and black tears.
But its a chain reaction. And they fall like dominoes.
If all you know is pain, then all you get is pain. And if you try for anything else, all you get is pain.
Why do I have blood in my veins. Why do I have a beating heart. I want to rip it out and throw it in the fucking garbage, where it fucking belongs. I put faith into each breathe I take and then I choke.
Self medicate to suppress the hate. Love on drugs is a beautiful thing. But it ends in a crash and you catch fire.
If you did the same thing sober you would cry much sooner. Maybe run away in time. But you cant.
So pick a poison. Drink,Smoke,Shoot up, Snort up. Fucked up. Now your body is a mess.
My mind has decayed from lonely madness, suppressed love, a war on my body for beauty, a war on my mind for clarity.
What makes me any different? I do this to myself, and I refuse any kind of help.
I build a wall. I am introverted. I have too much time to think. On everything that happens to me.
You know you are crazy when you do the same exact thing over and over expecting different results.Theres a big fucking warning sign each time the electric fence burns you. Scars you for life. You spend time healing and then start again.
If you can look back at anything that left scars. You have a reminder of what that pain felt like. And how deep was that cut? Now people can see the pain you felt right on your sleeve. Even if that scar is on the inside, you cant really hide it.
But how good did it feel at the time?
Now I'm just an exotic animal. Its fun to look at me and fantasize. But never step inside that cage.
There are woman who make much better house pets.
And if anyone gets close, they admit how they feel about you before you come to terms with it, you fucking run. How could anyone care about this fucking monster. A fucking disaster.
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Human nature. Some of us that as a defense mechanism and keep coming back for...abuse...because we want to help.