Sometimes I just sit in front of my closet (the doors are mirrors) and just look at myself and rip myself to shreds. If I can’t like myself, how can anyone like me? How can anyone like me when some of my family doesn’t even like me?
I don’t know.
Maybe if I rip myself apart, I’ll grow insensitive to what hurts. What if I was just emotionless. Depthless.
What if I just put my armor back on and looked at everything without feel.
Maybe that would be nice. To feel nothing. Nearly numb.