Wake up swollen and repeat.
I get cornered, my vocabulary commits suicide, and I lash out. Playing the victim is the best part. Losing all sense of time and place is the next. Being incoherent follows, and wallowing in self-pity closes the show. I pass out often, thankfully I'm always in my room or near a bed when this happens. I sedate myself with the overwhelming feelings I have, preventing me to dream at all. I know that too much has happened when my eyes were open, and if I have to go through it again, this time with my eyes shut, I surely might die simply because of emotional exhaustion.
I mean seriously, what do I do? Just be comfortable with myself? I'm trying really hard to be good after a solid year of being anything but. However, there are some things that I just cannot afford to admit to, even to myself. I remember looking into mirrors from time to time, wanting to smash them, hating my fucking face, wishing it would burn off so I couldn't bat my eyelashes at anyone ever again. I remember not being able to figure out which punishment was greater, a physical one or an emotional one?
Nobody knows the truth, my love. What makes you think you're so special? I'd rather keep you than be honest with you. I'd rather love you than have to hate you. I'd rather see you than any seven wonders of the world. I'd rather compromise my self than compromise you. I'd rather lie in the cold with you than sleep in the warmth alone.