God damn how am I such a mistake? I keep bending and bending, soon I'm sure to break. I ruin everything, carnage everywhere. If only I could switch out lives, trade mine out for a spare. My "very best friend" since I was just a kid, I've managed to push away. Still can't believe that's what I did. I left her, abandoned, in the hands of another. Sure she annoyed me, but that's just how we treated each other. I despise myself for numerous things; I just drag other people into the messes I will always bring. I honestly wonder why I'm surrounded by friends. How can they stand me? I'd just want it to end. They're better than me in so many ways, not so selfish, much smarter, skills that can actually pay. On the other hand, we have me. All I have is my literature, but I'm not even the best there is to be. Don't think I'm looking for pity, that's really not my goal. I don't care if anyone reads this, I'm just trying to fill the hole. This app is like my diary, but with much more violent tales. I really don't cut, I'm not suicidal, those are just the nails. The nails in the board that is all of me. Not my story, THAT you cannot see. I write to release, but that is not all. I write just to write, my poetic downfall. Goodnight, Wattpad, it's time for the sleep. Rest while you can, but my insomnia runs far too deep.
