Friday, July 18
[.::Author/title unknown::.]
There are no words strong enough to express how I feel.
Everything meerly floats around me.
I am on the cealing,
looking down,
and I can see myself,
and I hate what I see.
Why do I have to wake up every day
wishing it was my last?
Why do I go to bed every night
praying I won't wake up in the morning?
Why can't I remember
anything from my past?
Why can't I focus when anyone says anything to me?
I meerly tune them out,
and continue on my way.
Why can I never tell
if it is night or day?
To me its all the same....
Why does it feel so much better
to block everyone else out
and let only the blade under my skin?
Why does it feel so much better
not to talk,
to keep everything in.
Why do I feel like talking is a waste of time?
And why don't I understand how you feel?
I honnestly think everything I do is fine.
Cutting, self medicating,
none of it seams wrong to me.
Maybe you see something I don't see,
But I seam fine to me.
And nothing ever seams real-
at least real enough to care about.
Why did it take me so long
to muster up the energy to pick up this fucking pen?
And why do I accept that when I'm done
I'll never read this again?
Why do I let myself fall farther from the surface
every fucking day?
Why don't I stick up for myself?
Or even care if I get my way?
Why do I not even know myself
and yet hate myself so much?
Why can't I stand compliments
or a supposivly comforting touch?
And why do I care about my little sister?
It goes against everything I believe in.
The human race has no value,
and yet I love her more than anything.
A stupid human,
the same race that kills eachother,
starts wars to show who's tougher,
its hard to believe she's one of them.
Why is it always so hard for me to breath?
And why do I always feel better when I bleed?
There are no words strong enough to express how I feel.
Everything meerly floats around me.
I am on the cealing,
looking down,
and I can see myself,
and I hate what I see.
Why do I have to wake up every day
wishing it was my last?
Why do I go to bed every night
praying I won't wake up in the morning?
Why can't I remember
anything from my past?
Why can't I focus when anyone says anything to me?
I meerly tune them out,
and continue on my way.
Why can I never tell
if it is night or day?
To me its all the same....
Why does it feel so much better
to block everyone else out
and let only the blade under my skin?
Why does it feel so much better
not to talk,
to keep everything in.
Why do I feel like talking is a waste of time?
And why don't I understand how you feel?
I honnestly think everything I do is fine.
Cutting, self medicating,
none of it seams wrong to me.
Maybe you see something I don't see,
But I seam fine to me.
And nothing ever seams real-
at least real enough to care about.
Why did it take me so long
to muster up the energy to pick up this fucking pen?
And why do I accept that when I'm done
I'll never read this again?
Why do I let myself fall farther from the surface
every fucking day?
Why don't I stick up for myself?
Or even care if I get my way?
Why do I not even know myself
and yet hate myself so much?
Why can't I stand compliments
or a supposivly comforting touch?
And why do I care about my little sister?
It goes against everything I believe in.
The human race has no value,
and yet I love her more than anything.
A stupid human,
the same race that kills eachother,
starts wars to show who's tougher,
its hard to believe she's one of them.
Why is it always so hard for me to breath?
And why do I always feel better when I bleed?