Pain

Being sober once in a while is maybe just some form of self-punishment. Auto-mutilation gets you too much unwanted attention (not to mention the hope and fear of getting locked up).
Without that little numbness the pains are so much edgier. The hot, throbbing pain of my joints in the background that flare up once every so often. The sharp, cracking pain of joints going bitsy off when I suddenly move while my muscles are trying to catch up. And then the headaches, the ignorable ones that just drone on and on and on, the big attentionseekers that keep me on the move at all times waiting for me to do nothing to explode inside my head and then the all-consuming ones that make me want to scream or bash my head to bloody pulp against the wall to make it stopstopstopstop. And always, when I least expect it and not ready for it mostly, the pain of knowing never to be good enough, never worth enough.
I lie awake in the dark, lie awake till I see the sun set. And I feel it all. No escape. It's all there. Carved out by the physical pains the sharp outlines of the shell that holds all of me. There are no masks or all masks are me. The insignificance of my existence. I've said that I'm afraid of letting the evil inside me loose. But that's a lie. I can't be evil, I am not important enough (well on the worldscale, what does anyone matter), I'm destructive only. Knowing I will never matter yet want to matter has only one way. Destruction. Burn Baby Burn. 'My life might not mean anything, yet I can make people remember my existence.' Dangerous thoughts. Dangerously tempting thoughts.
If I'm in pain, why aren't you?