I don't have pain.

So I sit here talking to myself with nothing to lose nor gain hoping to find a remedy inside myself. That's oh so pure and full of happiness. Or at least that's how I want you to see me. I want to set these thoughts of mine free. Which is not that easy but it should be because 

I don't have pain. 

I am not a victim of rape or a gay Christian. Nor have I ever been racially profiled but the style at which I live my life is abusive , to me . And all I can see are a sea of people around me waiting to laugh at a joke or a mockery that I have created about the situation I had recently been in. I cannot sit here and make you cry out of sympathy because it's just not me and if you think for one second that I have ever let my thoughts consume me then you're wrong because 

I don't have pain.

Love is just a stain on a t-shirt I wear the most and wash the least because I feel like there's nothing else to wear and if I wanted to go bare the thought of not showing this scar will drive me crazy. My mother thinks I'm fat and lazy. Because I don't do my laundry. Does my father love me, maybe? I was never sure but I stopped counting those like all the wine bottles in our trash can. Can I even ask you? But I kinda don't want to, afraid that you won't say no,  so I'd have to act like I know why you are so distant with me. Just like the space in between that all mighty he or she, in the sky. I choose not to dwell on it too much because 

I don't have pain.

 That imaginary burden I carry everyday of feeling like I let you down, it doesn't exist. Or maybe it does, just like you. I have no clue , you never respond or reach out to be but now I'm told to believe in something that I can't see? Who are you and who are we? To try and preach something that we never understood, teach me how to love myself for who I have become. But you don't even know and the pain has begun, to seep in again, but you will never understand or see, my family, my friends. I am infected by the mind and pierced in the heart by the people who have seen my parts because I have broken myself down and given everyone little pieces , of my heart but has only left me with decreases, of love for myself. Telling everyone I don't need a man because I'm so independent, and falling in love should never be planned. But what do I know of that