I really wish I could do one thing right, but lately I seem to be failing at that one simple task. I fail to act right, and even answer questions correctly. The world is proving to me that I'm not as perfect as I try my damnest to be. This place I live in tries so hard to rip me to shreds, yet I haven't done anything to prevent it. I'm letting the darkness consume what's left of me, the sweetness people seem to love. Soon, there won't be any good qualities to my name. No matter whom tells me I can't kill myself, even though it's only a couple of people who say so, I still see no reason to live. Death takes all of the stress and failure away. People wouldn't have to glare at my presence or make smart remarks about me. I want to say that I was becoming okay, but now I'm back to square one. Square one seems so cold and deadly. At this point, death seems extremely satisfying right now.
YOU ARE READING
To Feel
PoetryJust a girl putting her feelings into words. From poems to unsent letters, I pour my soul into each piece. Many of the pieces are about the dark parts of my mind, and wanting types of love that I'll never be able to have.
