Sream Inside The House

The scratch of an inner wound. Until now still hurt the pain.
Everyone remembered the bitter memories. Tears I can't bear, fall and wet my torn heart from the wound, I feel the pain.

Sometimes I think, why happiness only comes a moment in my life. I always feel lonely despite being in the middle of the crowd.
My life is hollow, empty, bleak, boring.

Sometimes it occurred to me to do something that made me sick. Self-injure.
Making external wounds. Scratching sharp objects in my arms for pain in my heart to move into the wound I made, and will disappear, falling along with the droplets of blood flowing out of my body.
Things like that can make me forget for a moment his emotional pain and pain.

Sometimes, in solitude, I cry in silence. But when the tears began to harden, I stopped forcing the crying. Let my wounds and all these torments be buried. I stacked into one. I do not want those who hurt me know if I'm weak and vulnerable. I want to stay upright and keep smiling in front of those who hurt me. I want to look strong in their eyes, though to endure this pain is not an easy thing for me.

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