Almost midnight again. My wrists are dying to cry. Almost midnight again. Why do I even try?
Every night I stay up asking myself what the hell am I still doing here? Every cut, every burn, every bruise is just another punishment to myself for not being a perfect child. Every wound I deserve. My skin is screaming for some pain. Yet I still don't do it. My mind is screaming for all of it to end. But I still don't do it. I'm fighting. I'm fighting with all of my strength. But what if one day I run out of fight? What if one day I don't want to fight anymore? What if one day everything stops?
Looking in the mirror everyday and hating what you see is no way to live. Being a teenager in this fucked up world is harder than it seems. We all have our own stories. Some are sad. Some are happy. Others prefer not to be shared. My mind tells me to take all the pain away and I'm scared one day I will. I'm running out of fight.
Almost Midnight...
YOU ARE READING
The shit I can't say
Short StoryThis is me. The real me. I understand this story may not be for everyone but I need a place I can let it all out. I'm done trying to be perfect
