My belly full of sin.

I don't know what to make of myself sometimes.
I guess all I want is attention. From someone or anyone.

So I trip. repeat the past
and end up hurting myself. Curled up in a corner of the bathroom at 4 am, just crying.
Because it simply comforts me
in the dark.
Other times, I feel invincible.
Convinced that I can make it through any obstacle.

I'm not fantasizing about suicide or being beaten. I fantasize over make-believe stories - of little tea parties with dolls and teddy bears. I talk with them endlessly for hours. Sharing laughter and giggling over menial things. They were the very reason why I had dreams. Because like my demons in the past, they provided me with the comfort that I was wanted - that I needed to be used.

I can't give up on myself now. I just don't have anything to talk about at the moment. But after everything, I'll admit that I have come a long way. And I couldn't have done it without them. Tomorrow is another day. Chin up and face the sun.