Work Text:
I sometimes look into the mirror, and in those times I feel more real than I should. I think when I look into my eyes I see anger, feel sadness, and smell joy. Then I feel real, a moving breathing human. Sometimes I wish I was a simpler creature, I don't want to feel, I don't need to see, I don't need this. I don't want this, I want to be alone in a hole. Far far far far away.
But other times when deep in the desolate night, I just have to feel. To cry, to hurt, to bleed. In that time I need the bliss of pain, I need to regret it in the late morning.
Yet on some occasions I feel truly full, I don't need anything. I wish I felt this rare feeling more, feeling comfortable and complete. Maybe then I would be a good kid.
Yet who knows, I'll never know.