less and more.

Stay positive, but my throat is at it again.

I say I need to get better- but there are parts of me left behind, fragments lost in my own body and mind. Everything known except for an exit; a so long goodbye that never comes back to say hello. It's comforting and frightening. Is it wrong to believe that this is a part of me I can't get rid off? For now at least. Each time I start to acknowledge it's absence, it comes rushing back to me. How do you tell people the voices in your head are your own but you don't know which part of your life this comes from? That you wish to be kind but the demon you really are loves you the way you wish you could. That this became the only way you knew how to.

-riri-