he's just waiting to be fired. he knows it's coming and he's fucking terrified to check his e-mail because of that. he should have known better than to try and get a job while living at home. he should have known that his mother's dependency on him would give her excuses to ban him from working any shifts he's given during the school year. it's only convenient for him to get a job when it's within hours that she dictates. those hours never seem to be possible. the only one place where he could just be and not have to worry about his mother getting in the way of doing his own thing is about to be taken away. his constant, the only constant he thought he could hold on to will no longer be there to stop his from breaking down, freaking out, falling down. he doesn't know how much more he can take.
looking down he sees the scars he'd almost forgotten about. he can make out the word love, almost as clear as the day it was carved last. that was over 2 years ago, 10 months since his last scar at all... well scar he inflicted. he's been doing so well until he looked down. the memories flood back and he remembers how it feels. fuck, he's stuck between missing the pain and finding more painful substitutes. out of the corner of his mind he considers branding. he's played around with miniature versions of it in the past, but he's wanting to take it farther. he realizes... 10 months without the blade, but only 8 without burnings.
everything feels like it's closing around him. he's fucking terrified of it all, but he keeps on going every day. he wants to scream, he wants to mutilate, he wants to give up on trying and let everything go to shit. he wants to just sit and talk and cry and cuddle. he wants someone/ something to be there so he can have a living thing be that support he desperately needs. he's heading off to the deep end, letting it wash up over his head.
<3 <3
No comments:
Post a Comment