I’m afraid.
Afraid to talk, afraid to draw attention to myself once again.
I feel trapped in a small box that’s covered in puppy’s and rainbows that only the outside can see, the inside contains nothing but darkness and unwillingness to speak of the of the pain deep within me. GOD ******* ****** SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF THIS BOX
Why am I okay when I’m not really okay, why is everything okay when I show that I’m happy for once in my life GOD *******...
please just someone get me out of this box.
“You’re doing so well I can just see it, you’re glowing”
Am I ******* doing okay? AM I? Because I didn’t know I was doing okay, who told you I was doing okay?
I don’t want to be the center of attention when I ask for help but it seems as though that’s all I am when I do.
There is so much inside me containing things, just things.
If I reveal those thing will they actually believe me, will they actually listen or will they smile and nod and tell me everything will be okay when it’s not okay, they just tell me it’ll be okay so that way I’m “okay”.
god ******* ****** get me out of this box.

I don’t know
Words are just words that form into sentences that get stuck in my brain for days with little room to escape
Are they mine or yours?
What’s is real what is fake, what’s a truth and what’s  a lie.
I’d like you to confirm...
Just so I know...
I’ve noticed you’ve been distracted lately...
It was just a Dream right?...
Just a dream, a dream.
A reoccurring dream
Maybe it was just a dream.
Why doesn’t it feel like a dream?

What would I leave behind? My mind and body feel so far from each other. I am my own burden, my own reason. I’d rather not be anybody else’s. How is it that our minds can make us so selfish? Feeling so alone knowing there is nothing but love around us. Feeling used when someone else keeps expressing their baggage. They must not care about how I feel, right? They wouldn’t understand me because I am alone. One with my flooded mind. My existence ******* worthless. I am a burden. I should stop being so hypocritical and take my own advice that doesn’t do a **** thing for anyone. I should just go. What would I leave behind?

How do you separate what’s real from what’s not when all you see is what you thought you’ve been imagining?
I’ve been stuck, sinking through a continuous loop of memories that I didn’t even know existed.

Please go, but don’t leave.
Don’t be in my presence, but please hold me.
I don’t want to talk to you, but I want to know you’re there.
I’m not okay.
I’m not okay.
I’m not...

Let go,
of yourself, let go of what you worked for.
The pain allows relief.
Odd relief.
The flow of blood reminds you that you’re still alive when you felt you’ve stopped breathing.
Second line, third line,... tenth.
Clean up.
Work hard.
Relapse.

Politics.
*******. well, politics.
“There was another ****** in downtown Baltimore”
Racism...
As much as those topics can be true cruel, why is there never anything about the 10 year old girl who was ***** last night?
Nothing about the little boy molested by the grown adult he once trusted.
Nothing about the millions of people who deserve closure in this world.
**** the justice system.
There is never any justice.