for i cannot tell a lie i really do hate being alive
i hate knowing that there's a mere six litres of blood in our bodies that's three two-litre bottles of soda three two-litre bottles of soda is all that keeps me here and i hate it
i hate knowing that the leafcutter ant can hold up to fifty times its weight in its jaw and i can't even hold myself up throughout the day for there is no one weaker than i no one who has struggled as much as i and i hate it
i hate knowing that the people i once knew and opened myself up to have blocked me out of their minds but i can't seem to get them out of mine
i hate that so much
but i'm not filled with hate
i love the moon the moon is all i have left in life to look up and look forward to
and on the nights where he hides and i can only see him behind closed eyes i hope he can still hear me when i tell him i've been doing just fine
and i'm not lying i really mean it, i swear i mean it's just so hard these days, you know?
wish you were here
spoken word vent poem meant to be about depression now it's just desperation and mourning