Black Holes.

I hate myself.
That's the honest truth, right there. Three words.

I'm okay I guess.

But I feel hollow. Like there's a gigantic black hole where my insides should be and it's sucking all the good things away from the inside out. I feel heartless. Not like cold and distant. Like my heart's been ripped away.

I don't always feel this way, and I didn't used to ever feel like this. But I know that it's always there waiting. The black hole, eating me up.

There's this girl I know.

She's afraid. She's so afraid. She scratches her arm with safety pins and cries in the middle of the night because she feels so alone on the inside.
I hate her.

I hate everything about her.

And I know I shouldn't and I try to love her but I just can't. I used to think she was beautiful. I want to love her. I really do.
But when I feel like this I don't see anything worth loving in my reflection.


I don't know what you're going to think about this post. I'm still not sure what I think. I just don't want you to hate me the way I do. Am I crazy? I guess I must be.

My friend was at my house today. She found a razor blade in my room. I promised her I'd never used it. I wasn't lying. I'm afraid of it.
I think if I use it, I'll be completely lost.
Safety pins just seem safer.

It's been almost a month since the last time I cut through. That must count for something.

I hate myself more when I see the way my mom looks at me sometimes. She's so worried, and I hate making her feel that way.

I must have a heart still. Because it hurts. It really hurts. A dull ache in my chest reminding me that I'm still human. I don't want to be human. I want to be an photon. Zipping around at the speed of light, floating to my destination faster than the blink of an eye.

I already feel small and invisible enough.