2KnowMe
TwinBrother
New Registrant
I just sit here; if looks could cut there would be a whole in my wall the size of Texas. I just stare, thinking of what has become of me. I want to find a way out.
The sun sets in the window behind me. I remember the days in which I used to adore its beauty and compare it to my own. I have always been told that I look good. But when I look in the mirror I think differently. What has become of me? The scars that etch my body prove the mistakes I have made derived by the sickness that overwhelms me.
I have seen things that I probably shouldn't have. And heard things that make me feel so helpless. Here I just sit alone in my room facing the mirror, wondering why. Why do I have to feel like this? And why do I still let people use me.
Ive given my body to the night not caring to take it back. Sure I feel needed, wanted and loved. But I know its temporary. And that makes it wrong. Still Ill do it any way. I guess, I get caught up in the moment of wishful thinking that maybe this time might be different. Only to realize later, Im back to where I was before.
I consider my self a virgin. In that I have not willfully engaged in any meaningful sexual act with a partner of my choosing or consented to. I don't know. It depends how you define virgin. Sure, lot of things went wrong in my life. One is running with the wrong crowds. Now that I am out of that mess I feel more alone, more depressed creating a catacomb of tears and blood. I wear a mask by day, hiding everything inside fearing that others might discover me as I really am. Then leaving me behind hurt again. The sun is gone now. And the stars play across my window. A darkness falls over my room, only lighted by the computer screen, a dark black light casts shadows of past, present, and future.
Thank you for you time.
The sun sets in the window behind me. I remember the days in which I used to adore its beauty and compare it to my own. I have always been told that I look good. But when I look in the mirror I think differently. What has become of me? The scars that etch my body prove the mistakes I have made derived by the sickness that overwhelms me.
I have seen things that I probably shouldn't have. And heard things that make me feel so helpless. Here I just sit alone in my room facing the mirror, wondering why. Why do I have to feel like this? And why do I still let people use me.
Ive given my body to the night not caring to take it back. Sure I feel needed, wanted and loved. But I know its temporary. And that makes it wrong. Still Ill do it any way. I guess, I get caught up in the moment of wishful thinking that maybe this time might be different. Only to realize later, Im back to where I was before.
I consider my self a virgin. In that I have not willfully engaged in any meaningful sexual act with a partner of my choosing or consented to. I don't know. It depends how you define virgin. Sure, lot of things went wrong in my life. One is running with the wrong crowds. Now that I am out of that mess I feel more alone, more depressed creating a catacomb of tears and blood. I wear a mask by day, hiding everything inside fearing that others might discover me as I really am. Then leaving me behind hurt again. The sun is gone now. And the stars play across my window. A darkness falls over my room, only lighted by the computer screen, a dark black light casts shadows of past, present, and future.
Thank you for you time.