Can't seem to find the right way to express myself fully without hurting other people so instead, I hurt myself. Mentally, I bash myself; I'm never good enough.
Physically, I push myself too far, go until it hurts and then keep going.
My job is good,
my health is good.
I love who I am.
I have great friends
and much more to achieve.
Why is abuse so appealing.
Where does the life you've drained from me go to? When do I get back served time?
The scent of replenishment and life linger in the morning with coffee, a book and the weather channel.
Music, bouncing through my tiny eardrums, louder for full effect, certain songs melodize my blood.
These simple yet always apparant and pleasing attributes of a single day revive me.
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