My world has turned upside down back around and done a summersault. The unthinkable is now thinkable. I can't help it. I can't help the fact that when I go to sleep at night or at least try that I feel empty and that the darkness that surrounds my body also surrounds my brain because that's what night is. I've always thought the night time was beautiful at least until they started coming back and making the recesses of my brain dark empty and unfeeling. How is it that my head can feel empty and full at the same time? My chest cavity feels empty but I know my heart is in there somewhere. My mind it's nearly as foreign to me as speaking German or understanding my father. How can something I barely understand cause so much pain. Cause me to inflict so much pain. Because that pain is not inflicted upon enemies or lovers or parents but rather myself. The pain and wrath of my mind results and bruises scrapes cuts and burns on my own being. Always the pain scars with or without the things inside or out sometimes it's like my whole body is a freshly picked off scab but all the fresh blood vessels and fresh skin pink like a baby vulnerable unknowing get somehow still in pain. Sometimes my body is covered in scabs like these. Other times my body is the scab, trampled over by clothes and doctors in people’s opinion. "Why don't you just stop?" They say, "people are dying you're so selfish" they say Well what is it's an addiction? What if you my dear judging stranger weren't so god damn nosy; as to look at my arms and legs and sides like that. Like I'm something to be pitied, or worse yet feared. I don't want your pity stranger I just want a chance at normal life but here I am. No matter how long it's been no matter how hard it is I always go back to it. She's always there when no one else is. To chop and butcher me up like a steak. She is there to tell me all the harsh realities the ones I refuse to look at and worse the ones I choose to look over. And although she treats me either like I'm supposed to be a butcher or butchered. To let the pain, rise and revel in it at first, it's dull aches then in its throbbing pains and lastly in the stabbing jagged points only I feel. Because she only takes out her wrath on ME. She only pulls at the fat between MY ribs. She only. Butchers ME. Slices ME. And only screws ME over.