ShatterTheStigma

It was not the disease that turned me mad. It was what they said, see it got me bad. I was sane, until they came. It was them who caused this pain. I'd like to think that I'm sane. Yet no one else feels the same. Maybe none of this is real. This is not fact, just what I feel. It's true then that I'm just fucked. Maybe this was just my luck. So I sinned in my past life. So my skin just loves my knife. Tell her she's sick and she'll do what we ask. So they gave me poison; in a wine flask.

On the Borderlands they lie, Niether waking nor sleeping, But waiting, Simply waiting. Waiting for their turn to die.

I'm so afraid that I don't know, just how far I need to go I'll lose control, and lose my hold let Ana lead, a friend that's bold Soon I'll be thin, and pretty too so that you'll see, and wish you knew But I won't tell, no I won't say how I starve me, everyday.

I gaze around this room. There's never less, never more. The orderly peeks in again, and I pretend to sleep. He makes sure I'm breathing still. These constant incursions would drive me crazy, if I wasn't there already. I can't blame them for checking. I don't want to be here. I don't want...to be. They took everything away from me; everything to cut or gouge or squeeze. All that's left is the pain; the twisting, the wrenching, the empty. That's all that's left of me. "A B C D E F G…" I don't see an end, but I remember how it started. How betrayal and naïveté would leave me here to die, without remorse, or the batting of an eye