This is my confession statement.
I fantasize abou torture and killing
How to cover it up
Where the best place for ****** is
How to have the least witnesses
Ways to avoid emotional damage of the people who see the bodies.

Now for the confession.
I have tried to ****.
More than once.
I make people cry.
I torture.

It's story time.
Here's some background.
There is this girl. She's the ugliest thing on this planet, and she's overweight. She has no friends and used to be a complete loner.

And I found my love and addiction to torture through her. I would cut her. I would take my knives and drag them across her skin. Sometimes over and over and over again in the same wound.
She will never forget me or what she is. I made permanently sure.

Now comes the interesting part. Her existence welcomed me into the darkness of her heart.
I didn't always hate her.
There was some part of me still left that didn't have the heart to put all my effort into killing her. For a while.
I started to like it though.
I attempted and pretended to **** her a lot. More times than I can count on two hands. And I liked it. I scared her so much and I helped teach her her worthlessness. I helped open her eyes to how terrible she is.
And here's a secret. I made her love those headaches she got from lack of oxygen she got when I would tighten the noose around her neck.
I made her beg for death but took away her oppertunity.
I hit, punched, sleep deprived, cut, burned, carved, scratched, pulled out hair, force fed pills, mentally tortured and oxygent deprived this stupid, ugly, useless, unwanted, weak, pathetic girl.
However, I never fully followed through.
Which is why I can write this.

In a world of male vs. female
brain vs. brawn
good vs. evil
heaven vs. hell
skinny vs. fat
***** vs. player
pretty vs. ugly
popular vs. loner
How are you supposed to find yourself.
Society puts out so many labels and stereotypes
Demand you join one
(Heaven help you if you pic conflicting catagories)
And then judges you either way.

If you're a girl
You're too masculine if your strong
You're too Girly if you're weak
You're pretty if you have long hair
You're lesbian if you have short hair
You're a **** if you have revealing clothing
You're a nun if you cover up
And so on.

If you're a guy you're popular of you're strong
You're gay if you're weak
You're unattractive if you're skinny
You're perfect if you're ripped
You're a player if you get with more than one girl
You're pathetic if you haven't even kissed someone

In a world of double standards
You're expected to be badass
Popular
Weird
Emo
Reject
Wanna be
Cool
Druggies
Smokers
Saints
*****
*****
******
Nerd
****

How are you supposed to choose ?
Heaven forbid you're smart and ripped
Heaven forbid you're skinny and a ******
Heaven forbid you're popular and 'Emo''
Heaven forbid you're badass and nerdy


You're told to make your own choices and just be who you are
But then you are judged
Ridiculed
Put down
Bullied
Excludes
Rejected
Neglected
Offended
By being who you are.
To the point where you are being told to and forced to change so much that you lose who you originally were
You second guess every choice you've made since thy lead you to who you are today
And you always feel like you should be something wake to the point where you have no idea anymore how to even catagories yourself.

In a world of double standards
Judgment
And today's society
Finding who you are and making your own path and controlling your life is the biggest challenge of all.

My thoughts are like a river
Flowing through what used to be my soul.

My thoughts drown rational feeling
Or any decent emotion.

My thoughts war goodbye to the beach as they drag my good mood into the cold, dark depths of them.

My thoughts cause the same amout of trauma as a near-drowning.

My thoughts are sometimes still and transparent
Showcasing the horrors they hide

My thoughts at other times dark and murky
Ugly and sinister
Concealing the awfulness beneath its surface
Waiting to surprise you

My thoughts look inviting at times
Refreshing
But My Thoughts are a dangerous weapon to the unsuspecting
And the most common one can **** me as easily as drowning in my swimming pool.

You toy with my feelings
And play with my mind.
Make me believe you left me behind.

Eye will count two ten
You hide until then.
Eye will start two search four you, but don't tell me when.

Or maybe play hop scotch
Trample all over my feelings while they watch
Raise the standard up a notch.

How about we run around each other
Two everyone else it's obvious we want one another
But you'll conceal it from me, keep it under cover.

You want two play jump rope
Repeatedly jumping all over my hope
Yet eye am expected to cope.

So lets play a game.
You'll kiss me and whisper my name
Then you'll leave me and make me go insane.

Does this game seem fun to you?
Because this is what you put me though.

I am not numb
For numb is having emotions too much to bare
Too complicated to sift through
Too tangle up to sort out
Too overwhelming to rise above
That everything just merges into nothing.

Robotics
Mechanics
Manic antics.
No longer unmotivated
No longer too scared to try
No longer too pained to care
No longer too hurt to love.
The threads you were hanging on by we're annihalated.
But you're not falling
Or panicking
Or soaring
Or dying
You're just existing.
Going through the motions of the decent or the flight.
Taking everything in your stride.
Not faltering
Not altering the way you do things.
Everything is transformed
Emotion feels nonexistent
And thoughts become frail.

But my days are numbered.
Not because I can't feel
Or won't feel
But because everything is mediocre.
Soaring is going up
Plummeting is going down
Rising above the **** is up
Being in he'll is going down
Torture is annoying pain
Euphoria is mild joyfulness
Depression is a shadow
Love is a fleck of light
Being haunted is remembering
Thoughts are just there
And my existence is passing me by.

My days are numbered
Because my torturous reward is this cage.
This daze
This haze
This maze of feelings
Impossible to navigate when everything is foggy.

My days are numbered
Because when you push something so far away
You're just giving it momentum to hit monumentally harder.  
And I can't escape this daze
But when I'm released...
I fear the outcome.

There will always be someone more important.
With parents it's always the first born.
With siblings it's always friends.
With friends it's always  partners.
With partners.... Well , I wouldn't know. I've never had one.

There is always someone more important than me.
And this is what I'll never say out loud,
Or to your face,
Because its too selfish.
I'm too selfish.
But with R.H there's S,
With C.G there's M,
With Z. D/K there's J,
With B.H it's  A,
With M.H it's  L,
With K.H it's Him,
With K.A it's himself.
With A.T it's others.
With me? I don't know.
With me it's You. It's Him. It's Them. It's anyone but myself.  

It is a selfish thought
A selfish feeling,
But I am a selfish being.
The point is. That I feel unimportant.
You tell me you love me. You tell me I'm important.
But no matter how much you say it
you love her more. She is more important.
There will always be another that is valued above me. Valued above all. And it will never be me.

And that destroys me.

That is why I always bring up our girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or person you're always with. Or person you're always talking about.
I rub it in my face.
I make sure that I know
At most
I'm second best.

*There is *always more.

Hi Classified*

I drank again. A few weeks ago. I thought I could control it. It helped.
But I loved it. It felt good to be drinking again.
But it's not just any drink. It's a specific red wine.
I was drinking up until about a week ago, but I thought someone was on to my habit , so I slowed down.
Now its nothing, just a sip every now and again, reminding me that there is always the drink. it will never leave. It's reliable
But then I remembered that there was this drink that I got into a while back. It was a whiskey. It burned me, but i liked it
And today a friend of mine gave me some. Put the bottle in my hand. And I didn't mean to. But I drank some of it. Just a tiny bit. And it burned and reminded me how much I like it
And that is my story.

*Claps