Speak
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- Parts 20
This is a book of poetry. A place for me to vent. I love to write. I love to live. Some days I am a total wreck. So I write. Some of these are true. Some of these aren't. But I wrote ALL of them for a reason. Even if that reason is unknown it is there. So read about my life. Read them aloud it in your head. Remember to say what you feel; speak.
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"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard
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