self harm CW mental illness CWMahlon was exhausted beyond belief, his eyelids felt so heavy, and his
self harm CW mental illness CWMahlon was exhausted beyond belief, his eyelids felt so heavy, and his arms numb, he could barely feel them, licking the blood off his wounds. He’d cut himself, and cut himself, and cut himself, his skin felt like a carved limb of wood, rotting from the inside. He didn’t feel much anymore, except for the constant little licks, wet like warm rain, he felt so empty, and couldn’t care about all the things that went wrong, all the things that would keep going wrong. He stared at the asphalt with half opened eyes, focusing on the blurry details of it, the hardness of it, he wanted to be thrown and dragged against its rough surface, the ground ripping his torn skin apart until his bones were the only thing that remained. Maybe he’d feel real then. Someone could beat him senseless, he would not move, he couldn’t, really. It was like he’d left his body, and was watching another from the distance, the body of this humanoid being with ragged edges, this still, ugly thing that kept on surviving somehow. The thing was inert, he wondered if it was dead. These hands, they weren’t his, these dirty paws of a wounded animal, they didn’t belong, didn’t respond, just layed there. He grew so tired, drifting off to the strange feeling of distant waves, black and thick water on his body, cleaning him of the violence with a gentle swap, like detergent on a murder scene. Nothing had happened. It could be forgotten. It was all just a painful illusion. The storm, gone, a brief shrug that could be erased by a simple lock on a box whose keys were trapped inside, left behind with the violence and the brutality, knocking forever on the other side of its lock, purposeless and unable to reach the other side. kofi ☕️ twitter instagram society6 -- source link
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