I can never cut deep enough. Because when I do, I'm only hurting myself, and I'm not getting rid of the shell. I'm not carving away the person who I no longer want to be like I think of it. No matter how many times I put the sharp to my skin, does it ever peel away to reveal someone new underneath. It's always me, persisting, me regrowing. It's always me.




I'm never going to get off the ride though. There is no destination. You stay on the ride until you die. Even when it's stopped, you're still in it, and you're waiting. You're waiting for it to start back up again. But you don't get off because you can't ever get back on. And it feels like it will never go again, it feels like you're stuck in that car and you can't ever imagine seeing the road again. And I question myself - do I have the patience to wait for the car to start again? Should I leave, would that be easier on myself? And I try to remind myself of all I've gone and all I could go next time. And I can't seem to find gratitude in myself for them, because it must all be pointless if I stopped, right? What did the past matter if I'm stuck right now? I don't have a solution for this. But all my friends want me to stay in the car.