I'm still alive after 401 days. didn't think i would make it past 10. this started as a fun thing. it's become a coping mechanism. a reason to live, a way to function. it wasn't the support that i did or didn't get. it was me. i think this is the first time i actually wanted something, and finished it, even though i didn't have the energy. because i wanted to, unconciously. it just hit me. i'm glad i'm here for some reason. i have an emotional connection with these notes. they've been here the roughest year of my life. without knowing. so this time, no thanks to other people, but to me. i'm here, i did it. i'm proud of myself. i can't say that with certainty yet, but i just hope i can, a bit more, every day. soon.

Everytime I walk this road
I become more aware
Of how you're not there
To walk it with me

they say writing helps you cope and forget.
this is my 600th poem on here,
but i still remember every single one.