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Feb 2013
It's like laying in a bed of thorns, wrapped up in a blanket of insults and put downs that dig just as deep as those thorns would, feeling every pinch of the very tip of them lay themselves into you as you toss and turn, trying to escape the sharp and piercing life that you live in. The feeling of your stomach pulsating, echoes like a heartbeat through your battered veins as your devastating way of life leaks through into your dreams... Your nightmares.

It's like falling into a deep, dark hole, without a sense of hearing or being able to touch and feel things. Like losing your voice and you are shouting at the top of your lungs and no one can hear.

Frustration

Like you've been deafened by your own isolation. Like you can't feel anything around you but the stabbing sensation of pain, anger, loneliness and the bitter words that are thrown at your weak heart.

It's like being kicked and kicked and kicked until you're all the way down, all the way to the cold, hard ground. Your delicate and dried skin beaten and bruised, the imprints of the left memories of your torment...

Back to the start, back to the very beginning when you vaguely remember when you were actually happy. When you smiled. And when that smile rocked his world. And now you're nothing, nothing but a drowned rat lying dead on the bed of a gutter. Drinking only rainfall to prevent severe dehydration. The only excitement brought to you seems to be the sharp, rushed feeling you get when you pull out that same razor blade from your ripped pocket and draw that coppery smelling substance we call blood from your already shredded wrists. That razor blade, the only thing closest to a bestfriend, it's helped to get out all of your anger and helped you to feel the true pain of your wrongs and mistakes. The pain from the blade, managing to take over the thoughts and excruciating pain from the spine shivering cold paving stones, what seems like they are scraping of off your hip bones. That razor blade, slowly taking away all of the other possible pain that may be caused throughout the taunting night.

It's like you're dead, lifeless, like you don't even matter or exist at all...
Like a little girl in a world of violence, alone and scarred by society, full of what feels like you're drowning in a river of anxiety. 

*Its like theres just nothing left to fight for.
Written by
Chloe London  24/F/England
(24/F/England)   
  1.4k
   ---, Kim, ---, Lucky Queue, Jodi and 1 other
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