In my mind,
There lives two wolves.
Two distinct voices.
Each telling me to make different choices.
How am I supposed to know which one to pick?
Quite honestly, the stress of it all is making me sick.
Is the right answer instilled in us?
In our heart and in our brain?
Or maybe two voices is all it will take to drive someone like me insane.

I changed my mind.
I'm not doing it anymore.
I don't need to add anything else to everything that's drowning me.
Two weeks would be hell
And I don't think it will make me happy.
I just won't be happy period.
There's not much I can do about that.

I'm sorry
For all the pain I caused
The misery and hurt
And I know that you will
Try to protect me
To say it wasn't my fault
But I know at least
One time had to have been me

I'm sorry
I made you cry
That I ever said anything to
Bring tears to your beautiful eyes
I'm glad that I can trust you
And tell you anything in mind
But I wish that I could protect you
That I could shield you from all
The horror of our world
It's not that your too innocent
Or that I think your too weak
To handle our world
It's that I love you too much
And I don't want you to have to
Say your fine
I want you to mean it.

I'm sorry
I ever kept anything from you
That I ever hid a secret
You are so incredibly strong
And too loyal for your own good
I new that you could bear my burden
But I didn't want to see you try

But don't get me wrong
Don't mix sorry with regrets
I don't regret the pain
And I don't regret the hurt
I wish it didn't have to be this way
But I wouldn't change a thing
Because if I took the pain away
You wouldn't be the you you are today
And I wouldn't be the me

So thank you for always being there
To beat the burdens, share the weight
For trying to protect me
The way I wish I could protect you
And thank you for forgiving me
For always being my rock
And standing by my side
No matter how many times I messed up.

I'm tired of feeling
I'm tired of school
I'm tired of fake friends
I'm tired of my family
I'm tired of me

I forgot ****** healing.
I'm too scared to feel anything when you're done.
It's not like you stroke my hair,
kiss my skin and treasure me.
I'm looking for my spectacles,
emptying out your receptacle.
But there's value in the hand that flushes
down your forgotten ****.