When did I stop caring?
When did I become such a hateful person?
When did I become so angry?
When did I start losing control?
When did I begin to want to die?
When did I want my breathing to just stop?
When did I wish I could leave everything behind?
When did I want to just run and never look back?
When did all of this start?
But why do I feel some sort of contentment?
Because I feel nothing.
I'm an empty soul.
I need no one and no one needs me.
*I have a confession. I feel like you guys have the right to know. To know that I'm in no way a strong person.
I relapsed about 2 weeks ago...and I've started up my self-harm again. I'm sorry. Don't do what I do. Don't be weak like I am. I just need to feel something. I'm sorry.*
YOU ARE READING
My Mind.
PoetryNo one is quite fixable. We just need to find the beauty in our ugliness. That will be how we overcome this world.
