*sighhhhssss* I have no idea what made me write this but I probably listen to too much twenty one pilots to be honest and I guess you can read it when you are like bummed or something *shrugs*:
Am I helping anyone? When I tell them that I care does it really reach? I know can't be there to always catch the fall but I wanna be there for it all.
Hate when people are sad,mad, and angry. Like why are you this way? But oh wait someone hurt you.
People can't be happy in this place of judgement but we can try and lie and have nothing of it.
I wanna be there but I can't because we're all a little bit sick but it makes so much sense when you look at where we've been.
And scream pretending not to bleed, pushing back all these fears to be, happy.
It's a selfish thought to want to be so damn happy when you aren't.
I know you want to die but it just isn't worth it. Can't you look past it all and see that something's worth it?
We all project society. Judging, killing, cutting, screaming, fighting doing everything but breathing.
I'm comfortable but I fuck up and I'm proud to say I fuck up. And I'm no longer afraid to fuck up.
I'm happy but I can get sad, mad and angry. We need to remember those other emotions and live out our days not letting those sicknesses become our sole weakness. I know it's hard, I've watched it happen. I've had it happen.
Do my words ever reach you when I let you know I love you? Do my words make you think about the things you shouldn't do?
I know I fuck up. I let people go but yet I don't. I can't be afraid. It's only human nature to feel these pains, to be conflicted. Some pain is stronger than others but you can't give in.
I can't give in. I won't give in. You think they wouldn't cry for you? Well think again, the person I thought I wanted to die was the person I cried the hardest over.
People will cry for all they didn't say, for not stopping you. So yes it's okay to feel that way but remember the things that make it worth it.
The little, trivial things like breathing in and out or reading a book or loving someone.
I couldn't help them, couldn't help him, couldn't help her but I won't give in.
My arm once bled because I let the cut run, I didn't care. I thought no one did. But everyone does.
Even if you haven't met them. Maybe you can save someone else with the same pains as strong as yours. Maybe you can save yourself by saving them.
It's selfish but generous. Like humanity has always been. And maybe one day we can be a little bit, just a tiny bit happier than before.
((I AM NOT SAD. I REPEAT. I AM NOT SAD I JUST.. IT CAME TO ME AND I WROTE))
