The Story Of Boredom

Resilience

I think about myself alot.

Only to realize theres nothing special

All my problems seem to be mental.

Everything else about me is great.

But when I walk around, my mind is never completly straight.

Even the smallest things bring me down.

A dark cloud hovering around.

Whats amusing is how good I can hide,

And that very few know who I truly am inside.

The rest of society I've come to hate.

Its not like society like me anyway.

I remember this one boy I met,

At the beginning of the year.

There's was something about him I liked,

It was probably cuz he was weird.

He was like the guy version of myself.

Except he loved himself.

I didnt.

And out of all the girls that liked him,

He liked me, I don't know why.

For once I've managed to find the "perfect guy"

He asked me out through text,

I should've noticed that red flag.

Cuz if he really did like me

He wouldn't care if his friends called him a fag.

For having the guts to ask out a little misfit like me?

His friends probably called me a whore behind my back.

Ill never know for sure.

After all that we've been through

You gave me more pain to endure.

You told me to kill myself,

As if the last trace of heart I had wasn't already dead.

What Hurts is that of all things you could say,

That's the one thing you said.

So my heart remained empty and cold.

For a while that's how it stood.

Then I would remember how my daddy hurt me before any man could.

And then I'd cry.

Maybe if I cut the wrong vein,

I could finally grant my wish to die.

And then I think of reasons to stay,

And to not give up.

I promise myself that I won't.

But I will need some form of luck

Even though on the inside I still kinda suck