I'm just a kid, I can't do this. Not on my own, not all alone. The books lie, my eyes cry, I want to leave, go home and cry, or run away, away from it all. But all they say is that i need more pills and shove me back, tell me to get well soon so I can be a fitting part of society, I'm unimportant to them. Just another number in a computer. And that crushes me everyday. Maybe I am just another number? I'm unimportant, unoriginal, all they want out of me is my money to pay their taxes right? Feels like my head is about to break away from my spine. But I'm fine really, why do you think I have so many therapists? And a psychiatrist? And a social worker? So that I can be a robot to their game, the puppet in the show. Maybe I'm overthinking this. Every kid my age has these problems, and every kid thinks they have it worse. Why do you think I lose all my friends? Who even are you to be reading this? I'm writing with tears in my eyes looking to the skies for the change to get to fly. But that doesn't matter now does it? I'm not unique, I'm boring, my purpose is stamped onto my forehead when I'm born and that's what I'm supposed to do right? The meds in my bloodstream tell my brain to relax so I can be mind controlled easily right? So I can do their bidding? My body is broken, my life is shattered, why am I here? It doesn't even matter.
On another note: 5/5/19 what the fuck kinda cryptic bullshit did I write at 3 am like whoa bro maybe u need some vodka.
YOU ARE READING
I'm sorry that I wasted your time
SpiritualThe silence screams in his ears, yet all he can do is wipe the tears, he's been trapped for what felt like years, little does he know how much he fears. Update book to keep me in check, yeah I'm fine bro
