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I often dream of stabbing wounds to my stomach, or brittle nails digging against my chest and into my flesh to tear out something that never belonged
But I'm not sure what I'm grabbing for
I often believe I deserve to be locked away, kept uncomfortably in a box three sizes too small for myself to be cramped inside. I want to keep the violent pieces of me from the public
I never wanted to hurt anyone.
I often dream of a hero to come to my aide, someone who will hold me tight until I break into a thousand pieces in their arms
But now I have him
And I often believe my actions are insane, that maybe I'm being driven to a cliff of something crazed where I will drop into the sea and drown in my own thoughts
I am almost always terrified of getting lost
I often have difficulties expressing these things to him, despite him repeatedly holding his hands out to me and saying "I'm Here. I'm here to help you." I still can't bring myself to cry against him
And I believe that will be the thing that kills me.