Lying is like a trip, it's like having a secret and no one else knows. I'm here because I, because I woke up covered in blood. I had bruises all over my arm, it's usually from when I have fallen and someone's helping me up. He used to tell me what I've done the night before, and I learned that when you wake up like that you just say you're sorry. Just say sorry for what you did and you're sorry for who you are and you're never gonna do it again, but you do, you do it again.
"Why are you really here?"
Because I'm afraid of myself.
YOU ARE READING
Excerpt from a Book I will Never Write
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