i used to think that it was harder then. I'd already labeled it rock bottom, but I am a drill and I somehow managed to dig further. I cried so much more back then. but that doesn't mean i was hurting more. if anything, crying must have made me feel so much better. it's not like that anymore. the tears won't come, solidified and choking me from within like a twisted sort of blood clot. it didn't hurt more then, because i knew i wouldn't get caught. i can't break down in peace anymore. my eyes stay red longer, my eyelids take weeks to go back to normal. i can't mourn the loss of myself when I've already done it so many times before. i'd give you all i had if you could make me sob again. if you could wrack my body with dry heaves and horror because anything would be better than this. it wasn't rock bottom. i don't think i'm even there yet.
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Open To Interpretation
PoetryThis is a collection of some of my old poems, short stories, and other writing that I created a few years ago, while I was going through a really rough patch in my life. I wanted to publish it back then, but this is the best that I can do for now. E...
