My dad always tells me get over it. Hell he told me to stop smoking and turns around and smokes. The thing is I grew up in a place where suicide is always an option. A place where meth houses were on every corner. My name is Jensen stark. I'm one of those people that you find hiding from the world. You would find me saying stuff like fuck the world. I've already tried suicide that didn't work out the best. Every time I got caught either my mom or my dad. I tried to get people out of my life. No one understands how much pain someone can hold in till they break. I told myself not to overdose. Instead I did. I told myself not to stab me. But yet I fuckin did. Pisses me off every time someone says it'll be over soon it won't. My pain keeps piling like a motherfucking house of bricks. No one ever knows that there's obviously something going on whether it's a goddamn family problem or if it something going n in your life you don't want anyone to know about.
