I can't handle my thoughts. I am not strong enough for myself.
I get told everyday, what a strong person I am.
No one knows, that once the clock strikes 2, I break down.
The salt cleans my face as it runs down. I taste it on my lips as I wallow.
The pain is racing through my mind of every word.
The itch is making me notice it. It's always there, just it becomes noticeable at 2.
I can hear her calling for me. I can see the images flashing, making me feel imaginary relief.
I wish for these thoughts to not appear.
All I want is to be happy. Why is it so hard to be happy?
When I feel joy, the misery is harder and longer lasting.
Sometimes, it gets really hard to breathe and I can't see what's in front of me.
I feel as if my whole life has been taken over by this feel of loneliness and agony. And I want to end it.
No one needs another depression, trans, suicide, LGBT case.
I'm just another statistic.
But I'm okay with that. As long as I become happy when I'm gone.
