Monday 25 June 2012

Understood?

Hello there, the angel from my nightmare.


Here's a letter to you, so you understand.
You've been torturing me, having fun.
You know me inside out.
You know my fears.
My goals.
My aspirations.
You know me to the very cells in my bones.
And you give me dreams.
Nightmares.
Hauntings.
But, just so you know,
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.

You make me cry, but that's okay.
You make it so, so tempting.
You know me inside out.
You know my fears.
My goals.
My aspirations.
You know me to the very cells in my bones.
But you don't understand.
Self-harm is not for attention.
It's a silent scream.
It's killing your inner demons.
It's your most terrible thoughts, expressed on your own body.
It's just an addiction.

You don't understand me.
You don't understand what I do.
You know me inside out.
You know my fears.
My goals.
My aspirations.
You know me to the very cells in my bones.
But you can't see the pain you're causing.
People who die by suicide don't want to end their lives.
They just want to end their pain.
The pain you cause me, you cause them.
A temporary solution with a permanent effect.
Things don't need to last forever to be perfect.

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