Already dead.

Shattered glass on the floor. Heart so hollow. Head dripping in shame. Soul throbbing in pain. Crying of fear. Fear of thy self. Fear that you may do something that you will regret. You pick at your scars. Thinking that you may be able to feel better. But you won’t you will feel worse. Having the feeling of hatred. The constant feeling that you aren’t good enough. You and I are one in the same. Both Externally numb. One deference though you are dying while I am already dead.