34I dream of tears. Tears of red. Blood. Falling from the sky, filling streets with its crimson color. I feel a hunger for it. It is so powerful and mesmerizing. I smell it, touch it, taste it. Its so real. I never want to wake from these dreams. In them I am happy, I feel carefree. These dreams have an uplifting feeling to them. I sense it, I never want to leave.
Pain is always near me. It hovers above me, like a rain cloud. I am always haunted by this intense feeling, this terrible sensation. It makes me want to cry out. To scream.
And yet, I like it. I love the way it lingers, like smoke. It follows me, always threatening me. and my life. I love the ominous feeling it brings, challenging me to create more. Its deathly song rings in your ears, timeless bells moving to a portentous beat. The sound may be menacing, but it soothes me. I thrive on it, live on it. I can't manage without it, can't function without the lingering feeling reaching every point of my body. There is no other way. There is no turning back.
To create such an overwhelming feeling I cut hard and deep. I need to see the blood, to watch it fall. It has a glow to its crimson color. A glow full of so much hate and pain. The cuts are etched deep in my skin. I like to see it months after I create them. So I know what love is, for I love pain. Cutting is a daily part of my life. My arms are tattooed with the luscious lines I love so.
No one understands me. No one realizes the hell I am being put through. I may love pain, but I hate it just as much. That red color may seem tempting, but there is an evil inside. It engulfs everything I am and will be. All that is left of me is this dark, vicious girl who thrived on pain, obsessed with its mysterious feeling. This isn't the real me. The real me is far from gone. She can never return. I will never let her return.
I am beginning to see faces. Faces of people I don't know. They follow me, stalk me until all I could think of is them. They don't know who I am, but yet hate me. They want me to experience all this pain. They want me to face all these dark nightmares. They are the reason this is happening. Its not me who is hurting me, its them. They are the only ones who matter. They have enslaved me, overpowered me. They made this happen. There is nothing wrong with me. There was never anything wrong with me. For I am not the one doing this. I am never to blame. Never.