When you asked me if I was okay and I said yes, did you see it was a lie?
I said yes because I cannot explain why I'm so sad all the time, there is no reasoning, so lying and saying I'm okay it's much easier. But it's completely false, I'm not okay, I'm really not, and although I say I am I try to give you so many reasons to not believe me without having to actually say it. But it doesn't work, you don't see past the mask that I use everyday, the days where I paint on a smile and force a laugh and pretend like everything is great. It's becoming more and more difficult to do that, I'm running out of paint. Everyday that I paint on a smile I use a bit more of the paint that I have, I'm almost out and I don't know where to buy more, my voice is breaking and my laugh is going with it. What will happen when I run out I paint? Will people see and care and ask whats wrong? How do I explain? Because I feel so full of sadness and so empty at the same time, I feel constantly alone even when I'm in the most crowded places, I feel like nobody cares or likes me even though I know there are some people who do, I feel like nobody would care if I died because I'm just so worthless and unimportant. That's how I feel.
I write to get these thoughts out of my mind but they are never gone for long, I'd say I'm an addict with a pen but the pen is a blade and the paper is my skin.
Cant you hear me? I'm screaming and shouting for help all the time but it's like my words are barely whispers because you can't hear them, I'm screaming as loud as I can, why can't you hear my words?
You see me smile, but look into my eyes, they are full of tears, they show how broken I am in my mind, just look into my eyes and you'll see everything that I'm trying to keep hidden. I'll keep it hidden because you don't deserve to suffer like I am, you shouldn't worry about me or how I'm feeling.
They say it will get better, when? I need to know because I'm giving up, everyday I lose a part of my faith, a part of me thinking I can handle it, so please tell me when.
You hear my jokes about wanting death and hating everything, but they aren't jokes anymore, I'll continue to say them as if they are but they are getting more meaning and you laugh at them, but please stop laughing, I just need you to hold me close and say that everything will be okay, I need someone else to believe in me because I can't believe in myself anymore.
And now my skin is stinging, clothes dyed a light shade if red, my mind full of these thoughts that scare me but won't go away, so I'll try. Goodbye.
