God, oh God, can't I do anything right?
Can't I quit feeling much fright?
Why won't I love myself,
And accept the issues on my shelf?
I guess I'll never know,
But I still kill myself real slow.
I get tired, bored of crying,
I hate Looking forward to dying.
Why can't I be happy?
Perhaps this is all I'll ever be.
Ashleigh Mull 3/22/2017
