Dear Journal,
I feel like falling.
Not off a cliff or something, but I feel like getting away. Does that make sense? I want to run away from my house and never come back... But I can't think about that without crying.
I feel like Im hated, but not bullied. I feel like I'm literally eating myself alive, killing myself without dying.
I mean... I'd like to live. But that's up to my brain.
Will my thoughts eat me alive...
Or will I be a corpse by morning?
Sincerely,
Anna-Lisa
PS: How can I make it stop?
YOU ARE READING
I need to talk
RandomI guess you could call this a journal, but I will lie. You can't stop me.
