Starfire
just here to vent
- Nov 3, 2020
- 34
People only check you wrists and not your thighs. Put it so high that only those who dare to bare you and those you wanted to bare yourself unto will know.
Physical pain helped me when I was still dealing with the stress of my emotions. I figured I was already fucked up when I was a kid, which made me a socially awkward person, thinking everytime I communicate with them, I will be leaving them all behind anyway.
So, here. Physical pain was way tolerable than emotional one. Alcohol is a solution. The solution. And that thing that helps fade new scars. Every hiss through my teeth and clench of my jaw has been very quiet for years: a painful way of saving myself. Saved me, regardless.
I have my best friend and friends. I have been secretive, however, because I know it's not going to help if I tell anyone about it. People often ask what's wrong and help you stop the act but can't help you drop the thoughts, forget the voices or befriend them. It was all just about cutting the twigs, and not uprooting the whole thing.
But my demons became my confidante. Believe me or not, some of them even pushed me to live. And sometimes, I miss loving to be alone. Wanting to be alone. With my pain. With the struggles no one knows. But there's no point in crying over a spilt milk.
So here I am, again.
Physical pain helped me when I was still dealing with the stress of my emotions. I figured I was already fucked up when I was a kid, which made me a socially awkward person, thinking everytime I communicate with them, I will be leaving them all behind anyway.
So, here. Physical pain was way tolerable than emotional one. Alcohol is a solution. The solution. And that thing that helps fade new scars. Every hiss through my teeth and clench of my jaw has been very quiet for years: a painful way of saving myself. Saved me, regardless.
I have my best friend and friends. I have been secretive, however, because I know it's not going to help if I tell anyone about it. People often ask what's wrong and help you stop the act but can't help you drop the thoughts, forget the voices or befriend them. It was all just about cutting the twigs, and not uprooting the whole thing.
But my demons became my confidante. Believe me or not, some of them even pushed me to live. And sometimes, I miss loving to be alone. Wanting to be alone. With my pain. With the struggles no one knows. But there's no point in crying over a spilt milk.
So here I am, again.