Does anyone even care? Can they see how much I fight just to keep breathing. Those that say they care, do they even hear. Hear my cries the tears in my voice, realise how big of a part they played in my destruction. Will anyone even read this, probably not. Can I believe, those that say they'll miss me. When I'm gone. When they can barely remember me, while I'm here. What's the point anymore, year after year. The same routine, I loose my friends a small piece of my heart and soul ripped from me. Love. Has made me want to shut away my feelings. I'm nothing more than a waste of space on this dreadful planet. I'm a crybaby, I've been told I don't act like I should if I want to be called Kyle. That I'm girly and too sensitive, so maybe I shouldn't be me. Maybe I just shouldn't, even be. It doesn't matter, no will read. This will sit on my page collecting imaginary dust. I'm touch starved, I just want time be loved. But nobody loves who I am, and I don't know how to change. I don't know how to deal. It doesn't matter, they don't care. I'm just a kid, that's all. A young teenager that's what they pass it off as, a phase. Something I'll outgrow. But I don't shed skin like a snake everytime I grow, I don't change. I'm an emotional wreck, I cry three hours total a day. I don't even know why half the time. I sleep half of my day away and spend the other half in my bed trying to fall back asleep. Because slumber is the only time I feel okay, I can be happy. But it's okay. Because it doesn't matter. It never did, I never did, and I'm fine with that.