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Not sure about the rating. About someone dealing with a traumatic event. |
| I can still smell him on my hands, I've washed them twenty times now, Soap, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, Nothing gets the smell out, I still feel him there, I'm tempted to try bleach but I figure that might burn, Then I think, at least I'd feel something different. I don't care enough to hurt myself though, I don't feel, care, think or need enough, I don't feel anything right now, I'm stuck in this, I don't want to be stuck with my own mind, I don't want to be anywhere else. My room isn't my room, my bed is not my bed, My flat is something that is mine no longer, Now it's just another life, I can't picture me here, The person who owns this is not here, not returning, It's as if I don't quite fit, that's what he did to me. He ripped me to shreds and cut me to pieces, He took away what I didn't realise I craved, He toyed, took advantage and broke something, I can't feel this right now but I can, I don't feel anything because this isn't real. This sort of thing doesn't happen to actual people. |