They say that love can mend your soul but my soul is still torn into pieces. I can still feel my rapists hands on my body and my mind sometimes wanders back to that place where I wanted to run but stayed. I know that i shouldn't let his mistreatment impact another's love but his shadow still follows mine and no matter how far I run he is still there. Love can't take away the pain caused by tragedy but it slowly washes the dead cells of my skin and leaves new prints of affection. So maybe love does mend your soul but it heals with fragments of everyone that has touched it so the **** is still a part of me but hopefully love can shine some light in the darkness so no shadows can follow and I can run freely.

What if i am an illusion, it would explain the kind of nothingness that I feel. How when I buried a knife in my wrist I couldn't feel a thing. That I sometimes more than often feel invisible, like everything is surreal, like I am as transparent as air.

Numbness takes over my mind and sends shivers down my spine. Shaky hands and blurry eyes, yet I'll tell you that I'm fine. I dig my nails into my skin leaving it red and sore just to stop the shaking from getting out of control. I know I have lost control of my feelings and I am left with nothingness and emptiness yet I try and try, effortlessly to make it stop. These late nights drain me till I'm exhausted enough to collapse and eventually relapse.

I am a quiet breather, I hate the sound of breathing. Most of the time I  wish for my breathing to stop, so I can have a moment of complete silence. I hold my breath and hope that I will never catch it again. I can hear my head pounding on my pillow, I feel like it is going to explode. I live in a neutral state of being, where nothing matters and I care for no one. I wouldn't mind if my head exploded or if my lungs gave up on me. I just need silence and nothing else, I don't need anyone else breathing heavily next to me as they fade of into dreamland because I am restless and the sound of breathing keeps me awake.

I have tried to write a poem about ****, but it is like I couldn’t find the right words. The meaning was stuck in my head and I was unable to translate it into complete sentences. It is like that night, where the darkness spiraled into the center of my body, and the cries for help were stuck in my throat, choking me. I still remember the emptiness that filled the whole room, so compressed that it felt like the walls would give in to it. I want to go home! No, I want to disappear, leave this body, this place and crawl into myself and let the darkness consume me. I just wanted it to end. My anxiety is always worst when I am amongst others and at that moment, it felt like my heart stopped, as I lost control over my mind and body, even though I felt it all. “I wish for it all would end”, I told myself. I wished that everything could just be ****** into a black hole, just like the void inside of me ****** out the last bit of happiness I had. All alone, but I could still hear the sound of the crowd on the other side of the wall of this crime scene. When the person who helped you out of depression, just pushed you down into a dark pit, when your parents haven’t taught you to call the police when the law is broken and the world feels like an empty void. If a friend no longer is one, but a ****** and you have forgotten how to say no, then stick ******* down your throat and let the screams fill the house.

Under the stars I feel so insignificant while amongst human I feel so unbelievably lonely. The words only come through in the evening when I overwrite the everyday hardships with a permanent marker and inhale the cold night alone in the twilight. I look trough fake lit windows in my childhood home. The light has never been my friend because it only shows the outer mask and the inner desire. I ***** in the light, blinded by the carcinogenic sunlight and increasing the process with my daily dose of cigarets. The smoke reaches for the stars, I sink to the ground with a curved back. The whole universe feels bigger and I smaller. I get more insignificant by every sigh and every burden thrown upon my shoulders. We all die alone but we must live together as fake friends till the dark do us part.