Sometimes I wish I was brave enough to end it.
I had a whole plan. I knew exactly how I was going to do it and when I was going to do it.
I chickened out.
I just want to stop existing. I want to die, but I don't want it to be painful the way suicide would be. I want it all to go away. I want the voices to stop and the misery to vanish.
I don't want anyone to remember me. I want to disappear without hurting anyone. I'm too selfless to take my life but I wish I could.
People think I'm happy, but they can't see me; the real me. The one that cries myself to sleep and the one that struggles keeping up in school. The one that scratches my skin open. The one that's perfected the fake smile. The one that feels rejected and unwanted and unworthy and unnecessary and unloved and hated.
That's the real me.
Where can love get me with those feelings??
YOU ARE READING
Depressing Shit
PoesíaSometimes I get in really bad mindsets. Sometimes, those mindsets lead me to write really depressing shit. This will be a book dedicated to my depressing thoughts and my updates on how I'm doing. I will be moving all of my chapters in my other books...
