There is a place I go to dig holes. You may not know this, but there are many different types of holes. Some are used to bury, some are holes worth exploring, and some, the majority - are holes we dig to fuck the pain away. The trouble is, once you’re down in your self made pit, usually, there’s no way to get out. most people die in these types of holes, though you wouldn’t have heard about it, it’s all about perception, physical being, the feelings we show not the feelings we fold beneath bones.

He struck me with such force I hit the ground. I raised me kneww to protect my body but I was no match for his strength. My hands and fingers ached from my constant stillness. Not game enough to move a muscle. He screams and raises his hand. I close my eyes and wait for it to break my skin and turn it a shade of crimson. The moment his eyes leave mne I sprint for my room and flick the lock. She comes out and asks what happened, only 20 minutes late.
By then im broken alone and tears are streaming down my face. One day he will hit to hard. And one day I wont be able to run.

They creep beneath my skin, screaming indignant titles of injustice and in my head they brand a thousand misunderstood conceptual frames. They are not the ones who control me, but they are of the dozens that consume me. Without them this mix is not possible, and potential is not reliant. The way they treat I do not understand, the way they speak I cannot comprehend.

Their language is twisted and their faces distort.

these four walls are closing fast and this jacket’s too tight. im suffocating. its just another night that i’ll cry myself to sleep because you dont care and noone will listen. ive never felt so alone. i didnt realise, neither did you. you know i can fly right? i just need you to throw me up high. the wind whislte’s in my ear as you set me free. suck harder on my wrists, draw blood, i want to feel alive.

you didnt do anything wrong, you never do anything wrong. its never your fault. fucking hurry up and get it over with all ready. your fucked up? we’re all fucked up, stop bitching. i really dont want to hear it this time. turning my ipod up as loud as it goes still doesnt drown out the sound of you screaming at him, and him hitting you, and you falling to the ground, and our hearts breaking. smile, im sure it will help. cos when i smile everythings fine. silence is just so damn reassuring, like your hand on my thigh. and i say i feel fine and you all whisper its going to be alright. tell me, what am i supposed to feel?

‘i hope you cant sleep and you dream about it. and when you dream i hope you cant sleep and you scream about it. i hope your conscience eats at you and you cant breathe without me’

And somehow this feelings coming back. My mids racing and i keep on spinning. pretty soon im going to throw up my heart. Was everything up until now a pointless mess of confusion and lies? All the hurt, all the happiness, all the secrets and the cheating, all the manipulating got us nowhere, Because after everything i’ve been through, everything we’ve been through, im back to where i started. Are you? i sure as hell fucking hope so. The web that im caught up in contains all our memories and when i pull free i fear that they will be left behind. i fear that i will be left behind. because while im tangled up here, trying to break free, your moving forwards. moving on. And i have to say that didnt last long, or maybe it did. i cant rememer. and i cant see exactly how far away you are but i know its going to take a miricale to get you back, im just in no position to perform one. im not even sure i want to, because to be completely honest, i hate you. actually no, thats a lie. i dont hate you. i hate what you do, i hate that you can make me feel like this and i hate that after a the bullshit and all the pain i still love you. deep down, ill always love. i hate myself.