Silence, deafening silence. That's all i want to hear. That's all i hear. Walking down the halls with my binders and notebooks. I see them, but i pretend I don't. The stares and the whispers. They call me 'Demon', 'spawn of the Devil', 'sick'. I get it. I am socially inactive and make everything awkward. I laugh a lot for no reason and act like I'm insane as a defense mechanism. But seriously? Grow up. You don't know why i do the things i do or say the things i say. I think of the famous depression line "when you say that you're fine, but you're not fine." I have friends, but when i go home, its just me and my demons. So tell me. When the ice breaks, what would you do?
