I love that you all are happier than me
Visioning myself in that space
Knowing that it may never happen
Feeling comfort from that and yet suicidal
Comfort bc at least I don't have to work hard at something I want
My passions and dreams will run down my arm and dry up before it gets to my hand
Deserted and crackly my heart will be so that I won't have the feeling of expectation
Suicidal. Well bc maybe evrytime I think of my *** crying again it starts to feel like two stiraphones  rubbing together
Or when I think this poem sounds great and then read it again a few days later
Why is it that evryone is happier than me tho?
I get nauseous just from trying
So I go into my room where I know "you ain't ****" and "I want to be alone" will wrap their arms around me
Ahhhhhhh I'm so comfortable