It's been 362 days since I tried to end my life last year on April 2nd.
I'm still haunted.
I'm going to be honest, I've tried twice since that day but for some reason it's always that date that comes into play. It makes me sad.
Remember when the boy and I fucked?
I found out he fucked the other girl I Invited over to drink with too, I don't know where- just that it was in my house. I don't know how to feel, we were friends and she knew how I felt. Am I glad they didn't tell me? I'm not quite sure to be honest.
Am I surprised? No. Everyone leaves me.
I have no friends left.
None.
I feel so alone.
I feel ready to die.
I'm trying to hold on. Please help.
YOU ARE READING
p o e t r y
Poetrymy poetry and writing as a sad person. don't get too excited however.
