I scream, I hit, I throw things in a rage. But it is all in my head. Instead, I am sitting, dull and lifeless. Moving is too much of a burden to bear.
My eyes are dull, but my tounge is sharp. It cuts for blood. To hurt.
I hurt her emotionally and it feels good. I want her to hurt the way I hurt. But I know it’s cruel, I know it’s unfair. My mind fights itself, guilty and gleeful all at once.
I want to stop, but I can’t. I hate the monster in me but I give into it. I am weak, but I try. I feel myself drowning, suffocating in the grasp of this disease.
I hurt the one I love the most because it’s so easy. I hate myself for this, but it isn’t really me who does it. I feel like my body splits in half, one side, the good, the real me, the other side, evil, the disease, the monster.
I want to cry and scream and curse and faint and die and fall apart all at once.