I’ve become like a walking corpse.
I smile, I talk, I laugh, I cry.
But all the while I’m dead inside.
I inflict pain upon myself to feel.
And in a weird way, when I’m tearing apart my skin with that of a blade, is when I feel more alive.
It’s the only thing that allows me to know that I can still feel.
The insanity in what I do is what keeps me sane.

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