No one really knows how I honestly feel,
Daily I think of ways to **** myself,
And I have to fight that off,
Yet it never goes away,
No one knows I paint on my smile for school,
And for the public,
But I get home in my room,
And I brake,
And thinking "no one understands"
I really am just ready to let my thoughts..
win..

They say "suicide is not the option"
    
           but...
                                                 *they never give you another one..

'you look pretty today'*          *you look prettier still...'you too'

'i love you'                              how could you?, 'i love you too'

'you're my bestfriend'         *why? im just me? 'your my bestfriend too'

I'm not sure if we each have a destiny or  if we are just all floating around accidental like a breeze.

Well I got my hoodie today,
And I broke,
Maybe it is for the best,
But yet why does it hurt so bad,
I am just so tired,
Tired of trying,
Tired of faking,
Tired of sleepless nights,
Tired of caring,
Tired of being alone,
Tired of breathing,
Tired of living,
Most of all,
Tired of being Tired.
Like ****.