You want help but can't even help yourself. You fuck everything up. People blame you but they don't know the truth about you. You fake smiles and laughters but you,yourself, know you're dead deep down inside. You have no soul. You say to yourself that you're a mean,selfish,unworthy,annoying bitch who wants attention. And to you attention is help, and if you can't find help, then death is the cure. But you hesitate to kill yourself. The air you wanted to breath a long time ago comes back. It tells you that you are worth it. It tells you that you are special, then the air disappear. Then you can't breathe. Then you realise that you are dead.
