Close your eyes, dearest heart. I will take your hand and together we will go through your dreams. Dreams of blackness and nothingness, when your emotions become irrelevant and feelings long forgotten. Your cold cold heart will match the weather and rain of stars will glittered you existence in black reality of death. Take your pills, go on, my love. I’m your friend I would never have hurt you. 

Piece of the soul has been ripped out of my sad excuse of a life. Because, after all it what it is; I live surrendered by excuses of pain and sadness. I’m in pain, I’m sad and I’m tired. 

Tiredness of being alive and being able to breathe. I don’t want to be covered my scars, not anymore. But it is harder with every passing minute – the need to see blood, the need to feel its hot lines going down my body – I miss the sensation of feeling alive by making myself be in pain. 

I need pain to understand that I can do it, that I can live. 


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