I'm sick, sick of everything, I sound happy but you know I'm not. My eye's are all puffed up, I look so ugly. Not only does my eye's feel slightly heavier than any given normal day, but it the surrounding area of my eyes kinda hurts a little. I hate myself. I need to stop, somehow I wish someone would give me a tight slap across my face. Why am I so weak, why do I tear easily?
I guess, in someways I can say I'm stronger than before. Its has been ages since I last cried till my eyes were like blue-black!.. wth like I was punched only. #&^@*#& errrgh!! but at least my heart only endured a tiny bit of pain. The more I think about it, the deeper the sharp end of a blade penetrates through my heart. The moment I step into the cab, I uttered the words BYE, he slammed the door shut and seconds later, tear pearls started sliding down like it was raining with thunder and lighting. The driver noticed, and kept silent for a few minutes. Then he tried to break the awkward sounds of my noisy asthmatic breathing.
It was nice, he comforted me and tried his hardest to make me smile. I did my best, but we both know its just the surface. Reached home, I rushed into my room and closed my door. It was past midnight, I'm guessing everyone was snoring the night away due to the long trip we made to Peak District and York.
The first thing I grabbed was my tesco tissue box on my empty shelve. I blew my nose, try to bring myself to a calm state, then kneeled down and started pouring out beads again. I lay on the carpet floor, started to hum a few songs, and attempt to sing them out softly, as to not wake anyone up. The lyrics were in the lines of a series of questions to Jesus. I kept asking, why.. why me lord? why am I like this? why do I deserve the blessings that you've given me...etc
In that moment, my sole thoughts were just him. I started thinking about the exact words he used. It made me angry, I felt mad. But somehow I was partly to blamed, I was the one that demanded him to hurt me in front of me. Maybe its cause we both needed closure, but I needed it more. And the only cure to forget is to sharpen the dagger, before its leaves the holder's hands and right into his victim's love. I am almost aware of consequences, it had happen to me before, and I took all of the pain in and managed. 2 years past and I became a stronger person. Unfortunately this time, its different, I was blinded by the sight of his hands, bullshit right!!! oh gosh.. why am I such an addict, not even my fav pillow case can help me regain consciousness. But all of this for what?? since what's gone is gone... is it too late? perhaps..
I am desperate for some alcohol now to knock myself off.
I'm tired, I didn't sleep much. I don't think I have cried enough, but the thing is I don't wanna cry not because I can't but every time I wet my eyes, it hurts, literally. :'(
By Sillygirl,
p.s. her ass feels the numbness already
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