It’s not that i never thought it was real, it’s that i never thought i’d be in the position to come to realize it is a thing. Never understood how can someone can have the cravings or even the slightest urge to allow soon, to be rusted, metal with dry blood meet the mask of our humanity that’s able to ripped just enough not to kill you. Let the sorrow flow down your sad entities you take out on your wrist the weekends you find yourself stuck at home realizing just how alone you really are. And watch the pride of your insecurities drip down the sheets of your bedded nightmares. And feel nothing but the roughness over scars of your breakdown the next day as a reminder. That’s not who you are.