poems from a lonely girl

.paper cuts.

Imagine both your hands are covered in paper cuts and you put one hand into lemon juice and the other into salt water.

Then for every cut that heals over time, 2 more takes its place.

Suddenly you walk into a room full of people but you're  feeling so empty...so lost....so broken, that you would do anything to have yourself back, to feel your emotions again.

Anger, jealously, fear....anything really. The tears don't come however hard you try to squeeze them out. The sadness visits you as often as you visit happiness.

You feel you don't belong, and each day passes by as quickly as it arrives.

You don't seem to feel pain and you are numb when you wake up, numb when you try to sleep, and numb when the tedious cycle starts all over again.

Yes you laugh and smile, however hollowly, but it just doesn't seem right.

It seems fake, like you're a puppet and someone is violently yanking on your strings. You want to give up, but somehow your body no longer obeys you.

You try to slow down when you cross the road but your feet move of their own accord. You try to stop eating, but you end up eating tons more than you'd wanted to.

You feel out of control, and you self harm to make yourself feel alive. To tell your mind that though your soul is dying, your body is unfortunately still alive.

You're physically hurting to ease the pain in your heart, in your mind. You get addicted to cutting....starving.... purging.....binge eating.....bruising.....

But

It'll

Always

Get

Better

I

Promise.