Get used to it

Thoughts so intrusive I wonder how thin of a line lies between regret and morality
There was a time when someone told me that its possible to get used to anything
That wounds heal, feelings fade, people are easy to replace
I find comfort in the elasticity of emotions but question just how comfortable i should be
My fingertips, coated in cherry red, dripping with blood,fresh with ******
No longer cause me to tremble from killing what once existed
My words shackled deep into the caves of confession no longer try to run away
The echo of your voice meant everything to me but this silence envelopes me like a warm blanket
Hands covered in the remaining decay of 18 years of life, are easily washed off
I think about how easily the rest of me could be stripped away
I welcome the thought with sincerity
My face is covered in everything but what is expected- tears
I wonder how long I’ll go to sleep feeling like this
Comfortable in a sunflower field of anguish
You told me I could get used to anything
But those were words I could never get used to