My depressing poems ❤

Just a little side note about my life, no need to read

Note: I'm really upset so I'm gonna write a paragraph on my sadness, feel free to skip ahead doe

It's actually a pretty funny story

Hahaha. My mom threatened to get me a councler becuz I have a "bad attitude" little does she know. She makes my life like this. So oblivious. I mean really. Look at me. I'm hurting. I'm dead. I'm only surviving. But it's funny, my mom makes jokes about it. She dares me to commit suicide, dares me to cut. She laughs and says I won't do it, I'm too weak. But really, it's not about strength. It's courage. Do I have the courage to stand up to the demons inside me? Or am I just gonna let them hurt me more? That's a question that I already know the answer to. I'm gonna stand up to them, maybe not now, but sooner or later I'll give up, completely. She laughs when she explains it to people, my friends think I'm seeking attention, or just a crabby person. But I'm not! I do smile! I do talk! I do things... Just not often. I can't take it anymore it hurts too much. That's why I started to cut. It feels good. Rubbing the blade on my skin. It feels like it's letting the stress out. By opening the skin, I get less tense almost as if the stress bleeds out and while the cut stings, it feel good. I remember the days where I could laugh. Where I would hang with my dad, but those days are over. Now it's yelling, shouting, screaming, disappointment, and more. I'm called pig 3-6 times a day. I try my best to hold it in, but sometimes I have to let it go. Staying up until 12 pm every night isn't becuz I'm not tired, it's becuz I can't sleep. My mind runs wild. Those are the times I fight my demons, I try my best to get away. I go to the park, and cut there. But I still have to go home in the end. I still have to be hurt. I'm not alive, only surviving.