a little bit of a resurrection
my life journal:
cutmedown
etch out
woke up this morning with visions of him scarred onto the back of my eye lids. Jesus Christ, please tell me why I must suffer. i do every fucking thing i possibly can not to think of him. to etch out the pain, pretend like those beautiful memories do not exist. only to go to sleep and have a dream like that. why? look at me, look at me sit here and cry. dizzy and nauseous and bleeding.
make it stop.
written on 2003-05-13 at 12:49 p.m.
she / lost