This crazy, wild emotional, depressing month has left me nothing but sadness and confusion. I feel like I have nothing left of me to give. I can't feel anything other than sad. Though few moments in the day come to cheer me up, the rest are just covered by a mask in which is over my lifeless face. Halloween's tomorrow and it's the first time that I get to handout candy to kids. I should be happy right? I should be excited to go to school tomorrow and see everyone dressed up and happy and spontaneous, but no. I just feel like there isn't a purpose. All I want to do is cry until my pores and skin are dried up and scaly. Cry until the moisture in my mouth hardens to a bacteria filled sponge. Cry until my stomach begins to slowly eat itself to scavenge the last nutrients it can find in my body. But I can't do that. I couldn't do that. Not to my
Mom, my puppy, family or friends. But what I'm wondering is if anyone would even care. My friends father had killed himself recently and I'm afraid. Afraid not of what death would feel like but if there was nothing left. Maybe I shouldn't be afraid. Death is inevitable and you can truly determine death if you really want to. Of course I feel bad for the family, and of course the whole school is talking about it, but what I don't understand is what happens after the first week or two. What about a month? Year? Decades? I'm sure by then someone memory of a person is just as faded as their memory to what they ate a week ago. My body is always, always fidgety and I just want to cry all the time. I'm scared and alone and I can't talk to anyone. I'd rather talk to someone I've never met, never talked to before, than someone I've talked to for years,., that's scary. Im just. Scared. Alone. And sad. But back onto the topic of Halloween I've decided to dress as a bright yellow dress with a white cardigan to deflect the negative energy or at least try to reflect some positively, but only with the color I suppose. I'm sorry if this upsets anyone but the truth hurts, and if you don't like it, change it.
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Like memories on the wall
PoesíaSo these aren't really stories every chapter is a new poem I've been writing to express my feelings towards life, people, even relationships. Hope you enjo