And here I am, lying in the bed all evening, staring blankly at the bulb on the opposite wall. The light is bright, piercing my eyes, but I forget to blink. The pain is satisfying, tears are making their way and I am not sure if its the brightness or the stark darkness in my life causing so much of this trauma.
Slowly, I stopped making sense; to my friends, to my loving mother and to my dear self. But I guess I didnot care.Not anymore. The pain is satisfying.It is causing me an orgasm, and I am moaning louder, i doubt if in pain or pleasure.
I am making a deal with this sort of intensity of the light, or the dark. My eyes dont pain anymore. I have come to accept the illuminous, but no matter how much I’d convienced myself, I am hurt. Deeply. I feel void, everyday I am losing a part of me.
And I’ve slowly come to terms with it. LIVING WITH FIRE IN HELL.