You're not even sure anymore.
Does it even mean anything to you anymore?
Is it just another method of stress relief now?
Maybe you deserve it, a part of you says. That maybe this is some kind of cosmic retribution for your past sins. For the men you've slain and lives you've destroyed.
Is this normal? Is it normal for a person to feel this way? Just how fucked up am I?
You don't even remember normalcy. You cannot remember a time before your mind was full of horrid thoughts. Were you always disgusted by the sight of yourself? Were you always tearing your wrists out with broken shards of glass?
Were you ever happy with yourself?
You don't know. And it doesn't matter anymore.
You need to find peace with yourself. You need to forgive yourself.
Before you wind up killing yourself.
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