My Thoughts

RhArt

Staring at my own creation. They stare back through the glass. Their black and red startled eyes mock my figure as his fist slams against the sturdy wall between us. Almost like an evil mirror a distorted, destructed version of me. I wish to let him free to get this stress stored inside lifted off me. But its unfair on them, unfair on people. I don't want them to see the version of me that's my own enemy. I ain't stressed about the work that's going on or distracted the by conversation I'm in, how many times do I have to say the walls weakening. The rope he's holding is tightening. The cracking that's been slowly tempting my hands is getting loud. I've seen this happen to people. Its horrible. Disgusting. I can't believe I can go through it and yet not help. All I can say is I'm here. And I might not be by the end of this month, if I can't get the help I need.

Tell someone?!

What do you think I've been trying to do. Crying out for help through message and every tear filled statement I've ever let out. Bounties placed on my head by the students sat the to right of me, when you think I'm gonna do it tonight or tomorrow. I'm telling you its the closest I get until I find out one of my friends getting mistreated, misunderstood. It breaks me until I'm too broken to stand up. I can barely even breathe and the noose is on the other side of the room. Sometimes I want to do outside away from everything I know so no one I know could see my head. My dirty thoughts. I scratch the patch on my neck that's been aching. The same spots gotten sensitive. He Stares at me as the thoughts eat me up. A crooked smile and a clutched fist that's gonna beat me down. I look down and think about ropes with intentions and eating shards of poison that cut down my throat after leaving my stomach unattended and lonely for weeks. I probably shouldn't be holding knives and staring at walls but. Makes me feel better than talking to people who make me feel like I'm the cause of their problems. I ain't the reason why your knuckles click when you see me. I ain't the reason why when you look over at me you feel ashamed that people ask about us. I aint the reason why people judge you for talking to me. But I still said sorry. But I still avoided you so you felt better. Ain't that enough!? Want me gone!?

Mustve said it to a shooting star.

Bye.