Ice Cream

Struggled for so long.
            Alone

Thoughts racing.
           Alone.

Self harming.
                     It does not help.
Trying so fucking hard to normalise these thoughts of self hate and disgust.

                                                                                                                                   Ice cream helps.

Breathing is not a blessing.
                     Choking.

Trying to focus on helping others.
                                   Lonely.

How can this go on? Is this some sort of sick game, made by the fails of my past?
  Made to live a life built on foundations of insecurities, bad decisions and lonely nights.


I fucking hate myself.


                                                                                                                        Ice Cream helps.




Hop back to bed.
Engulfed in blanket.
Leaving my outside face at the door
Pain holding my heart tight.



                                                  Ice Cream helps.



Sleep is the place filled with most comfort.

Where not all dreams will be bad.
Yet no matter the dream, waking will always hurt.


                            I fucking hate myself.


But please don't think about helping. You'll only make things worse.