LavĂnia
plalace
- Feb 19, 2024
- 155
I thought I could get better. I thought that anytime I wanted, I could come back if I needed to. I imagined my throat being cut today. I put my hand on my neck, sliding my fingers, imagining myself tearing and pulling everything I could. I imagined myself screaming in agony and pain, I held back. For so many years, I held back. I destroyed my body again and again, but I haven't killed myself yet. I held back. I need to be more selfish again. I'm tired. I have nothing. My comfort videos have ads. My games are repetitive and increasingly exhausting. My food tastes worse and worse, the problem isn't the food, my tongue is getting more tired, more annoying. My body can't take the laziness and lack of care anymore. My hair is falling out... I loved my hair so much before. I loved my hair so much. My body has increasingly worse cuts and bruises. I'm turning into a homunculus. I'm being forgotten. Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I should never have been born. I wanted someone to kill me, I wanted a justification, to be a victim. To die in an accident. I like to torture myself. That's what I've done most in these long years.
I saw a window made of glass
I saw a body made of flesh
I saw my arm and chest opening
Red river and pain, from the throbbing - behold a bell
My heart continues to beat
Outside my chest
In the hand of a thief
Who treats it with care
Where is my heart? Where? Where?
It beats, spits and spits
Until it gets tired
And then it freezes
I saw a window made of glass
I saw a body made of flesh
I saw my arm and chest opening
Red river and pain, from the throbbing - behold a bell
My heart continues to beat
Outside my chest
In the hand of a thief
Who treats it with care
Where is my heart? Where? Where?
It beats, spits and spits
Until it gets tired
And then it freezes