I can't take it anymore.
This world is so hateful.
There's no way to escape.
How can people be so heartless.
I just wanted to fit in for once in my life.
Pills. I only need to take about 10 or so and I'll do everyone a favor.
I'm not wanted here anymore.
The slicing of my bare skin and the sharp razor feels what I would think sex would feel like, I'm addicted.
I wish I could over come it, become a new me.
But no, there is no way to come over an addiction with out help.
The thing is, I don't want help.
No one truly understands the desire of self-harmer.
2 days go by and I can't take it, I'm back to the pills or the razor.
The teasing, the loneliness, the hate, never ending.
I'm falling into a pit, sort of like love, but with more affect.
This pit is called depression.
Maybe getting help isn't a bad idea after all..?
Nahh it's just my mind playing tricks on me again, of course it's a bad idea.
I rather never wake up tonight then have to go to those damn sobby therapist places.
Sometimes I just want to get a new life, but I don't want it to be Another Damn Sob Story.
YOU ARE READING
Not Another Damn Sob Story- Luke Hemmings
FanficI don't want another damn sob story.