I’m blinded
Walking with a hollow body
And an unconscious mind
I can’t feel anything
Yet I find myself wandering
Drifting through the emotions
That have been injected into my veins
Is there life after death?
Will I, after this life, be what others call—
Happy?
Will my dad neglect me?
Will I be abused?
Will I have scars?
Will I wreak of self-loathing?
I’m so ******* young
But I ache as if I’m an elderly man
It’s too early—
I shouldn’t feel empty
Or worthless
Or so ******* dead in my own skin
But I do
And it’s breaking me
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 9:49 PM UTC
I’m blinded
Walking with a hollow body
And an unconscious mind
I can’t feel anything
Yet I find myself wandering
Drifting through the emotions
That have been injected into my veins
Is there life after death?
Will I, after this life, be what others call—
Happy?
Will my dad neglect me?
Will I be abused?
Will I have scars?
Will I wreak of self-loathing?
I’m so ******* young
But I ache as if I’m an elderly man
It’s too early—
I shouldn’t feel empty
Or worthless
Or so ******* dead in my own skin
But I do
And it’s breaking me
Please don't comment giving me advice on how to handle things or say something along the lines of "it gets better, lovely!" I don't need that right now. Thank you, though.
