| Written by Diana, on 27-07-2000 15:09 |
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I feel foreign in my own skin. It's like I tore mine apart piece by piece and now I'm using one that doesn't fit quite right. I'm being forced to get used to it, to love it, to make it my own. But it's colorless and scarred. I can feel it crawling, trying to fit this mold, but it never will. I constantly shake--from meds, pain killers, hunger--I'm not sure which of these things causes it but it never goes away. So I crank up the radio and find a small corner to hide in until it subsides for the night and it's time to sleep.
Then I lay in bed for hours on end waiting for sleep to come but it never does. Never. Maybe I'm sleep deprived and that's all. Maybe that's where the confusion and frustration comes from. Just maybe. But then I think of the anger and sadness that erupts constantly with painful outbursts which can only be soothed with more pain. Each layer of skin has millions of nerves running through it. I can feel each one telling my brain of the pain I've caused. But it's no great matter.
Last update: 28-11-2006 21:35
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