I sit in my room and think suicidal thoughts. Making evil plots. Should it be a blade? Rope? Pills? Shit, anything that fucking kills. There's a voice in my head screaming "you should already be dead!" Is it true? It is? Ain't nothing new. Every day at school I act like I'm fine. Can't you see the fucking signs!? I'm dieing inside. I fucking tried. It's getting to hard now. I got to fight this somehow. All the names they call me. Can't you see? They're hurting me. Sure, I put on a brave face. Doesn't mean it's true. The words they cut throught. They hit that certain spot. Feeling like a gunshot. Got a nigga wishing she was dead. Going home crawling in my bed. Tears streaming down my face. I just want to feel safe. Why can't I just be loved? Instead of being judged.
Authors note: please don't steal. Thanks.
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My raps
Adventurebasically just me trying to rap about things. tell me what you think? thanks.
