He’s six and he can’t do anything right.

The humiliation and shame of failure swelled up in his chest.

A pencil was almost worthless because his hands are close to useless.
He was outcasted by the teacher away from the other kids every single day.

No one had taught him how to read and the page was completely alien.

He couldn’t sleep at night no matter how hard he tried and he was spanked.
Deep down he only wanted to please his mother but he simply couldn’t.

Although he was “gifted” in a few ways he was incompetent in most others.

He could never make her proud so he had just to erase her from his mind.
She was dead and now ****** only to exist in the past.

The boy knew he was a burden and was only a mistake that was too late to be fixed.
For a time simply existing was a state of intense remorse.

No matter the punishments or pain inflicted on him the guilt still lingered.

He knew that he truly didn’t deserve love.
But he wanted it so badly from those who cant give it.

Why did it turn out this way?
I’m alone, *****, and bitter.

I can’t stand how you found happiness.
But thats what I wanted all that time ago.

I’ve always have been a ******* at heart.

What destroyed me had felt so good in the moment.
It’s almost funny really.

I’m breathing but still far from truly living.

Yet your just **** full of life and energy.

But I know if I relived it over I would still make the same choices.
Because I always loved you way more than me.

Those nights strips away your nerves like wires.
Your body is tired that you can’t move but it’s not tired enough to sleep.

Old regret and suppressed emotions linger into your bloodstream,
and your mind slowly becomes completely toxic.

An empty wall is your only real friend and companion.
Whenever your dying on the inside there is no one around to save you,
But the loneliness is always consistent at least.

Every second passes by like an hour while the silence steals your sanity.
Songs mean nothing to the deaf but that white noise is everything you have.

You’ll finally feel better by sunrise but there is another night waiting.

In the end nothing will always just become nothing.

I’m a bird with clipped wings,
never able to be hurt by freedom,
but there is so much beauty in suffering.

Hey Honey-apple,
Orange you glad we’re divorced?
Thank God for Prenups.

He saved the entire world.
Then put the gun to his head,
and squeezed the trigger.

The good wasn’t good enough.
Superman just pretended to be happy,
but it was a joke.