My Soulmate

started to read suicidal poems again.

not that i want suicide or self harm.

well,maybe just a small slit will pleased me. content me.

its not because of him.

i used to have him.

to spend my time on.

but now,
have enormous free hour that i didn't know where to spend at.

so,
I've been reading those suicidal notes.
self harming blog.

slitting and bleeding.
they're..
part of my condemned soul.

the pain itself,
brings me joy.
self satisfied.

i feel alive when the blade wounded my skin.

no one would understand.

not even him.

the happiness that come through slit and blood.

i still want to live.

breathing in this corrupted world.

but i need to see the blood.

to feel the pain.

its part of me. my soul.

the pain were my personal kind of drug.

am addicted to it.

my happy world.

the pain..
hold me and comfort me.

the blood..
warm me and wash away my despair.

how can i leave them?

the only place,
i know i won't be devastated little girl.

the only place i want to live in.