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The truth, really.

I have very low self esteem

Wonderlandby El 21 Aug 2013

My stomach is twisted, knotted, deformed and evil.
I want it to hide, I want it to leave my brain alone. Every single minute of every single hour
it cries at me. Its like saliva is dripping down my throat and missing the point.
My brain cringes at the prospect. My body shivers, it can’t deal with it. I can’t deal with it.
If only tears were the cure.
Everyone is so quick to cast their judgement, yet I’m still a shrinking nobody.
Help isn’t always a phone call away.
If only nightmares were dungeons and dragons.
Staring into a mirror, breathing in and in and in, fingers desperately reaching for perfection.
Perfection is key.
Smiles hide it well, darling.
What do you do when every inch disappoints?

I’d stick a knife in it, but that’s half my fucking problem.