Well.
Per usual.
I'm the bad guy.
I think I know what I should do.
Ole trusty knife.
Maybe to the wrists.
To the thighs.
Or my throat.
But I'd have to hide it.
I'm just so over it.
I'm such a toxic person.
Such a fuck up.
Such a disappointment.
And I've realized it.
I've realized the person I am.
Am I shocked?
Nope.
Have I tried to change?
Yes!
Has it worked?
Absolutely not.
So back to the old me.
Cutting.
Not eating.
Sleeping.
And all the fun stuff they don't tell you about depression.
