Sometimes I think to myself
Why am I even still here
Why do I even bother trying
Why am I even still breathing
Why me
Why do I have to feel like this
Why am I such a bad person
Just why.
I look up at the sky and yell
I don't want to be me anymore.
Kill me. Please just kill me.
YOU ARE READING
The broken
PoetryThe stinging burn of the water from my fresh cuts. The hot salty liquid streaming down my red hot cheeks. The times I am in so much pain that I can't even cry anymore.
