They say you don't understand, your life is perfect.
But they don't understand.
On the outside I live in a fairy-tale world
where my parents live together
and my father has a job and I am a straight a student.
I have a house and food
and I have siblings and people all around me.
They say I don't have a reason to be sad
but what they don't understand is the mirror is my worst enemy
and I hate myself.
I hate myself so much and no one really knows or loves me.
I have see the blade at 2 AM and I have cried so hard I wanted to throw up. I have ripped open my leg just so I have some type of feeling.
I have trust issues and apparently I should be in a mental institute.
I scream at myself and beg for death to over take me.
They say I don't understand but I do.
I understand how it is to fake laughs and smiles all day,
to be exhausted and wanting sleep so the bad feelings go away
but not being able to.
I understand the fear of your shorts slipping and someone might see
and I know the feeling of loneliness
and I know of begging God to help you
but no one comes.
I understand how hard this life really is even if I don't show it.