I cannot even talk to anyone because there will always come a day that I will be judged and talked
so, I always bring my trusted friend with me
my valiant notebook and ballpen
other people will say, "it was a waste of time and resources"
but for me, "it was a waste of life if you did not express yourself"
because who will listen to you anyway?
those weak people who bullies you thinks they are stronger than you, but no

I value my peace of mind, and I know my trusted friend will not judge me
if the pages were wrinkled because of my tears when writing
if the pages were torn because I got mad and has been throwing tantrums at someone

you know how scribbled my mind is, yet you just stood there and laughed at me
you know how troubled I am, but I still find a way to express myself organically
to tell you frankly, I cannot even hold a knife when thinking nasty thoughts to myself
killing myself is not an option, but saving myself is a choice

my hair was maybe sulking at me because when my hair grows back, I trim it whenever
I cannot even fathom holding a rope and coil it in my neck
I am afraid of heights, I cannot even jump from it
I am asthmatic so I never resorted to smoking
I just write, I got it as a hobby but later on it became a cry for help or self-expression.