Paige Panda

The first time we wake apart

I never thought I had to see

This moment come around

Your side of the bed is empty

Leaving a cold absence behind

I think my heart is empty too

In a moment of profound self-loathing and despair, I found myself consumed by an overwhelming urge to destroy the very essence of my being. It was a feeling that had been building within me for months, perhaps even years, and now it had reached a crescendo that could no longer be ignored. And so, with a sense of grim determination, I began to eat myself, bite by bite. It was a slow, methodical process, as though I was savoring each morsel of my own flesh, relishing in the pain and suffering that it brought.

At first, it was a small bite here and there, nothing too noticeable or extreme. But as I continued, I became more and more consumed by the urge to destroy myself, until it felt like there was nothing left of me but a hollow shell, waiting to be devoured.

The tears came easily, wave after cowardly wave, as I bit into my own flesh, relishing in the pain and the release that it brought. It was a grotesque act, a perversion of everything that I had once held dear, but in that moment, it felt like the only thing that made any sense.

As I consumed myself, I found myself sinking deeper and deeper into a pit of despair, unable to see a way out of the darkness that had enveloped me. But even as the tears washed over me, and the waves of sorrow threatened to pull me under, I knew that I could not stop. To do so would be to give up, to admit defeat in the face of the darkness that threatened to consume me.

And so I continued to eat myself, bite by painful bite, until there was nothing left but a shell of the person that I had once been. It was a dark and twisted act, one that I knew could never be undone, but in that moment, it felt like the only way to find some measure of peace in a world that had become so consumed by darkness.

— Syden

DISCLAIMER!!! if you relate to any of this post and want to talk about it, I will listen, I am here for you<3

loneliness is such a funny feeling. it feels like the very second right before your stomach drops on a free fall rollercoaster like disney’s tower of terror or universal’s dr doom. your falling deep and far down a rabbit hole but you cant feel anything in your body except that feeling of emptiness in just a singular stomach as it on the cusp of falling. a whole body pf intricate systems of blood, cell, tissue, organs organ systems, all intertwined and you can only manage to feel your fucking stomach sink. and all the feeling is completely unsettling, but the truly gut wrenching thing there is about being lonely. is the external factors. out of body experiences that aren’t in the control of your thoughts and systems. like being in a room full of people and having no one to talk to. you cant help that shit, all you can do is accept it as its acids burn your insides and poison your brain. like wanting your mom to take off of work to see you but instead she decides to run errands with her time instead. you don’t make her decisions, you cant do any fucking thing about it, you just let it hurt even though your whole body feels numb. you cant feel it but you think its burning. your body begins to tremble and cry because your’e on fire, and no one around you notices to help put that fire out. you sit and you burn in this lonely. wishing you were anyone but yourself, someone pretty, someone skinnier, some happier, and the most sad of all, someone lovable. but you aren’t. and the people around you make you feel like you never will be. part of you questions if they only see you as there sidekick, there when they need you but nonexistent when they don’t. in all honesty, you wish that was the case. you wish that you could just dis-exist for the times your alone. because they are scary. your’e on fire, and you’re trembling and crying, and your brain is being poisoned by acids, and you cant feel anything in your body except for your empty stomach the second before its about to drop. you are lonely. its dark.