Where is the line?

 Where is the line? I'm learning again like a toddler with a tricycle. So many things to juggle and calculate. Who am I suppose to spare, now? Me, her, Them, her, we, Him? You?

  No one's watching but I feel like judgmental eyes following me around. This beast needs a beating, a leash, argh is this suppose to calm me down or arouse me even more? 

 Ah, the warmth of spilled blood. I miss it. 

  Look at the day, Noel. Lower your wall. It's okay. You've been on the edge of death several times and you came back. Let yourself feel even if it's the last good thing you'd know. Or because it's the last good thing you'd know.

  What's the worst thing that could happen? A dark, cold, empty, nothingness? Yea, remember? You'd welcome it

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