I sit here thinking about everything.
Thoughts turn to tears.
And tears turn to tear stains.
But I'm okay.
As I sit in the floor with a blade to my thigh.
I think about every little thing I had ever did.
I drag the blade over my thigh.
Not once.
Not twice.
But a few times.
But I'm okay.
I sit in my room, overthinking as usual.
Then a panic attack creeps up on me.
Out of the blue.
And here I am left breathless and exhausted.
But I'm okay.
As I sit there with a bottle full of pills.
I think to myself.
"Is this worth it?"
"Am I really doing this?"
"This is my last option."
I sit there and contemplate on wether I should take them or not.
And I end up taking them.
But I'm okay.
I hide everything from everyone.
I walk with my head held up making ppl think I'm doing better.
I smile.
I laugh.
I show the side of me I wish I could be.
But I'm okay.
Truth is.
I'm dying inside.
My head is a disaster.
My heart is breaking.
And I'm slowly letting myself go.
I'm not okay.
But I hide it.
From everyone.
From my friends.
My family.
Sometimes myself.
I try to push it off.
It don't really work.
But if I get lucky sometimes it will.
I try to drown out the thoughts.
The voices.
And the bad decisions that come to mind.
I try to think more positive.
It's not working tho.
But not everything can work out.
Not everything is gonna be easy.
Not everything is gonna be okay.
Not everyone is gonna be happy with you and your decisions.
Not everyone is gonna be satisfied.
And I know that from personal experience.
Sadly.
It's different from your own point of view.
