I don't want to be here anymore. As in I don't want to be on earth. I don't want to be alive. I want to just stop existing
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.
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I don't want to be here anymore. As in I don't want to be on earth. I don't want to be alive. I want to just stop existing
