You think it's terrible that you have problems?
You have the courage to talk about them publically.
While I sit here, thinking mine make me a "stupid little boy, who can just fucking DIE! Yeah, that'll solve everyone else's problems."
I sit here quiet, pretending to be happy, thinking that everybody else makes fun of me.
I sit here with the ability to end it all.
My problems cutting me open, like a knife.
I sit here with a gun, which I then withdrawl.
"FUCK," I say "I'm too much of a pussy to end it all!"
Having others watch me struggling.
Not having others help out.
I'm helping you though, because I know you can't see im not happy, but I am troubling.
I force myself not to shout.
It feels good to get this of my chest.
Because I am telling my story.
Now I may peacefully, forever rest.
Maddy, I am so, so, sorry.
I am sorry that you suffer
I am sorry I harm you
I am sorry, that between us there is a buffer.
Yet I never had a clue
The same goes for me.
You never knew I almost commited suicide in grade six.
I was too blind to see.
But my past, I can never fix.
We both suffer, don't be sorry for it.
For that's what makes us human.
