Needles
Over the years I have experienced many forms of pain. In the end, imaginary pain is the worst.
Cue your typical emo kid being all angsty over life. Experimenting with self harm.
What hurts the most, what distracts the best.
I hated needles.
More specifically, the lingering sting of a puncture wound when you have been anticipating the moment the needle pierces the skin and the only way out is the way in. Horrible. Uhg.
A prick of a needle gives me the same feeling of emotional instability as being spoken to suddenly.
"Hey... I've been worried about your for a while. I can't seem to contact you and you're so distant." Every word is another needle that presses onto my skin. Every second I spend gasping for air, looking for an escape I feel a single needle breaking through my skin. The burn, the sting.
"Please be honest, how are you doing?"
Honesty. Honestly can you really tell someone bluntly that it feels like your limbs are being strapped onto a metal table and you're helplessly struggling against the binds while you see someone approaching with a saw?
I feel more and more needles. They start prickling the back of my neck.
"I'm sorry, I'm fin-" "Honestly! I told you to answer me honestly! And now I feel it. A cold, icy needle piercing right through the center of my brain. Everything feels cold and I want nothing more but to just lay down and cry myself into nothingness and give into the pain.