I sat on the bus on a long ride home.
The bus was crowded and the sky was going dark.
My ear buds were in and I looked around.
I thought about each person.
The many hard things they may have gone through in their lives.
And I realized.
They are still here.
I don't know what kind of hell any of them have gone through at some point in their lives but I wish I could be like them.
Strong.
Yet here I am.
On the bus with my blades by my side.
The blades I push and slide on and across my skin.
Till the blood pours out.
I wonder if these people have ever done that.
I really doubt it but I will never know.
But they are here.
Everyday I think about killing myself.
I wonder if they ever have or do too.
I will never know that.
But they are still here.
And I just realized...
I'm still here...
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Ok so that one is different. I think it's more positive and it's not really poetic but it's kind of what I'm feeling and it's the same setting and stuff and it's the truth.
