My Lies

１２%

My thoughts are

f

              f

                 a

                     l

                       l

and not making any sense.

My mind is

j    u    b    m    l    e    d

and I can't think. 

It's been  t h r e e  w e e k s

since I took a blade

to my skin

but the thoughts of suicide

have stayed close to me. 

[They'll never fade.]

And to be honest

I don't think anyone cares now. 

You might think

words on a screen 

will be enough to change my mind.

Perhaps they will.

Perhaps they won't. 

I'm not making any sense. 

Who am I?

I have no idea. 

[Worthless.]

Other people are happy...

...I'm not. 

On the outside I'm trying

but on the inside I'm dying. 

I don't know what to say

anymore

other than

"sorry." 

[I am. I really am.]

I'm sorry for 

failing.

[You fucking failure.]

I wonder if people will read this

and care. 

Perhaps if you read this

you'll understand. 

You'll know what it's like

to want and need help

but not be able to

accept it. 

I'll read this back

[if I'm still alive]

in a few weeks

and think

"what an 

attention-seeking

bitch I was." 

...but I don't know any

other way to get help. 

My family doesn't understand.

My friends don't understand.

My school doesn't understand.

...who else is there to turn to? 

People say

"talk to me if you need to."

Well. I need to.

I just don't know how to. 

It's like I want 

to die and to live

at the same time. 

And I know it's selfish

but sometimes I think

about what someone would say

if they saw my scars.

[No-one ever has.]

I think they might understand

how I'm feeling

on the inside

if they see the pain

on the outside. 

Then maybe they'd stay.

But no-one cares,

do they? 

[I'm sorry.]