I can't tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like && right now there's a steal knife in my wind pipe. bending over again, over & over & over. The burning sensation, the blood dripping, everything hurting, everything bruised. I can't sleep. I cant eat without purging, everythings covered in a black and white stench. My mums worrying, my family in general are worrying. It's too much to run now, I can't keep doing it, so im walking I'm tripping over each step, tripping up over the lyrical thoughts playing over in my head. && we fall back into the same patters When you feel numb & empty & you dont have anywhere to turn, you don't have anywhere to go, there's nothing in you to grab a hold of this tainted reality you're in, you're just wishing for it to end. And again bending over heaving in pain everything, over & over. lb dropping to the floor. Image getting bigger. Scars. Cuts. Pills. I can't keep up with myself. Or myself can't keep up with reality. Im not sure what yet.