Kelly (holdingbeverage) wrote,

  • Mood:

the rain smells like dirt

For feeling so good I sure feel pretty bad. Something is amiss when you sit daydreaming of falling on scissors or getting in a car wreck for the pure sake of being injured. There was a time, it seems like a really long time ago, when I had to hurt, I had to punish myself. For being so stupid. For being scared. For fucking up everything that could have, should have gone right. For having nothing. No control over anything....except hurt. Hurt is easy to come by. Pain is easy to find. You can see it, you can feel its heat and watch it drip and hear it crunch. Now I thought I was past all those thoughts. But they creep up on the edge of sleep. And they whisper in every quiet moment. I'm not crazy, suicidal, or in need of medication. There are just voids in me that I never figured out how to fill the right way. Something I know I'm missing but I can't figure out how to get it. Maybe it can't be found. Maybe I am hopeless. I feel like I have already lost all the best years I could have had. I can't get them back I can't rewind I can't erase the awful twinge in my gut when I think about them. I just want to fucking SHOOT something or someone or tear off all my fingernails or get struck by lightning or break glass. I cannot stand the fucking TWINGE in my stomach and my throat closing just because I am sitting here THINKING about how everyone I ever knew is LIVING a LIFE that I just cannot find or understand how to take for myself.
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