Illusion

My life is nothing but an illusion that I made up to escape my hellish reality. Because in reality, I am constantly under the knife; cutting deeper into my skin until the cut's deep enough to see the tiny drops of crimson starting to seep down my arm onto the floor until my skin mends. Leaving behind a scar that will forever tell the story of my latest defeat.
The knife occasionally relieves me of my pain I feel inside for a little while. Silences the screams long enough to make me think that reality is a long-drawn out dream. Reality isn't a dream; my beautiful illusion is. Reality is the annoying alarm clock screaming in my head jerking me back to the present out of the meadow of my paradise and throwing me back into my hell. Reality is my hell.
This is why I go inside my head, pretending everything is ok while hiding the scars that I have placed on my skin. But playing make believe only numbs the pain for so long before I'm crawled up in a ball and crying because everything in my life has gone so wrong. Oh, how I long for the day I enter my eternal slumber, and God's hand plucks me out of this hell and places me in a paradise so much more grand that my pathetic illusion and so much more real....