Dear 2020,
I want to die. I wish I could write that to you a thousand times. No one seems to take me seriously when I say that. I want to cut. I want to die. I'm so tired of dealing with all this, I'm so tired of my Dad, I'm not getting better, and they switched my meds. I can finally draw, but it's terrible. I wish I was dead. I'm so fat. And ugly. I have to starve. Maybe then I'll die. Probably not. I just want to go to the third dimension forever.

goodbye,
                 hollin