There is no light.
No way out.
It will never get better.
I will still cry myself to sleep every night.
I'll still cut.
I'll still throw up after every meal. If I eat that is.
I'll still be bullied, just by different people.
My life with still be hell.
I will still be alone.
There is no point in fighting it, it will just get worse.
I know it will only end when I'm dead. Whether it's a gun, a noose, pills or a knife. I know one night the temptation will be to strong and I won't be able to fight it.
You call it suicide, I call it happiness.
