i continue to find myself in the same spot, trying to fight the impulse. the impulse to cut, to hit, to burn, to bruise- to destroy this vessel. this vessel that reminds me that i am nothing, that i will never amount to anything. i am useless. i am never the first choice. i am pitied. i am a puppet. i am alive so that my suffering may entertain those who induce it. i am worthless. i will never be worth anybody’s love. i will never be enough. i am nothing and i will always be nothing.
i am defined by my pain and i have lost all parts of myself that render me a “person”
i am a servant to the abuse
i have given up on trying to find someone who will stay, who will not inflict pain, who will not physically and emotionally enslave me.