It's gotten to the point where every night,
I find myself crying into my pillow,
my face buried to mask the sobs from my sister and father.
Every night I wish for death
because it can't be that bad?
I used to be terrified of that dark, mysterious abyss.
But now, if somehow a car t-***** my side,
or a man got his kicks off by taking my life,
I don't think I would care.
And that's the scariest thing of all.

What if it never gets better?
I am so terrified that maybe,
just maybe,
this is all I will know.
I can't do this for another 60 years.
I can't make people watch me die a little every day until it becomes final.
I am not that strong.

There's no hiding anymore.
No hiding the scars.
No hiding the fear.
No hiding the tears.
No hiding the sickness,
because it's more alive than me.