Sometimes I wonder if anything has sense.
I don’t feel like it does.
I wear so many bruises and so many scares.
What if my cross is too heavy and my back will break at some point. Will I jump when I will be standing at the edge of my life.
Will I step up to the occasion and make my final decision.
It’s hard when you ask me.
But you don’t.
You don’t care, just talking about yourself, with your head underground, just ******* on your own kind with your sneaky little voice. Have my nails to hurt my skin to not think about the words that are cutting more than sword and leave my mind in a deeper hole,
with no sun and no wind, no clear sky to look upon and just hard ground to fall upon. Little voices in my mind telling me that those weren’t lies, try convince my little head to destroy what I’ve create, try convince my little heart that is time for the last jump.