Sick of this
Sick of faking
Sick of wondering about the point
Sick of not knowing if it’s true
Or if they’re stringing me along
Sick of thinking bout the future
Sick of counting every day
Sick of wanting to die
Sick of being alive
every flippin day
Sick of good moods only lasting a minute
Sick of the high then the immediate low
Sick of ‘Are you bipolar’
Sick of explaining I’m not
Because I’m not
Sick of not talking to anyone
Sick of being judged
Sick of ‘what’s wrong with you’
Sick of not knowing
Just sick of everything left in this world
Expect the couple of people who are
Sick of life
Aswell

I know that I'm crazy.
I know that I'm not okay.
I now don't have a home
I have nowhere to be safe.

I want to cry,
I want to die,
I can't even try
My tears won't dry...

You want an answer
I say I’m an open book.
You ask about my family
I tell you to *******
You said that I said
I’d answer your questions
But I didn’t
I said I was an open book.
If a book is open
You can still only see 2 pages.
Two random pages
In a story you cannot read
Without flicking and poking
And invading privacy.

Please prepare for emergency landing
In the middle of an ocean of questions
I nor the staff may answer your queries
FYI If we crash it’s your fault not mine.