I'm not suicidal.
But on the days,
Where the sky is grey,
And my week has felt neverending,
And it feels as though nobody wants me around, And I feel trapped in my mind, I think to myself,
I did not ask to be put here.
I did not ask to be born.
And ponder over what it would be like,
To never have existed.
But again,
I'm not suicidal.
