I

I lost who I am. Somewhere between addiction and pain and sadness,I lost myself. In my darkest moments I was all alone and everything was stripped from me and taken. It is torture living with these memories. Every scar you will see is a teardrop and each tear is a day of my life that I hated. Maybe I would rather have those scars on my skin than in my mind. The scars say what I cannot. They scream rape.They beg for help. I clench my fist and close my eyes and scream so silent. I don't know what to do. I take the pills. I drag the blade. I suffer in silence.