The self destructive one.
The fraidy cat.
I want to be empty.
Without feeling so fucking empty.
I didn’t want people to look at me and think I’m a freak.
I felt so alone. So scared.
Like, people wouldn’t accept me, and they didn’t.
I wasn’t normal, and people could tell.
But, that’s in the past, I rose above it and found real people.
The voices have hindered, I still hear them. I’ve learned to decipher reality and the thoughts in my head by the reactions of others, and constant questioning, and that makes me feel better.
It’s usually when I’m alone does it come, viciously.
I’m still afraid to be alone.
And, now, I’m okay.