Some are small, barely a whisper to be heard. Others are screaming, drowning out my thoughts. These voices. They never stop. They never have. They never will. These voices. Control me. Destroy me. Kill me. Hurt me. These voices can't be silenced, but they can be quieted with the right company. Today they scream. Tomorrow they may whisper. But what does it matter if no one can know what's going through my head. No one can hear the screams or feel the pain. No one can understand the voices.
YOU ARE READING
All The Small Things
Non-FictionAll the small things. All the shit I feel like ranting and venting about so maybe for once someone can see the world from a fucked up teens perspective.
