Snowflakes

Night

I don't know what to say.
Just typing words that would lead to hooray. It's really cold at night. I wanted to stop breathing.

Earlier, I took my cutter again. Spilled a blood in my red bed. I went to far this time. It's like losing control of your right hand, right arm, till you won't feel a thing.

I regret being myself. I regret living in this world.

That problem is stuck on me. Why does it look like that you gave up? I haven't. Why am I still hoping for nothing?

I wish things would end as possible. I want to feel free from hell.

I just want to be with everyone. Smiling, joking, crying, fighting but still getting along. Things won't go back the way they were.

You feel the same way, too, right?
Or don't you. You changed. Why?
Don't you feel tired?
It's already night.

I wish that we could go back as being friends. But that's just a wish. Wishes will never come true. For a broken person, for a broken world, nothing will be granted. Instead, it would be wanted. Won't be hated.

"Think about it"
"What have you done"

It's like telling me to think about
my imperfections that will never be called 'perfections' but a broken idiot.

Call me names or whatever.
It won't change the fact that what you said reflex who you really are.
And the question is,
Who do you think you are?
And who do you think I am?