I’m constantly tottering on the wall of It’ll Get Better and Suicidal,  whispering to both

" How?”

How can anything get better, but how could I take my life and any chance that it will?

When I was in sixth grade a test asked me what I wanted to do after highschool, and I didn’t know how to answer because..

I didn’t even plan on living past highschool.

So I filled in the buubble beside other, and when my teacher took me outside the classroom to ask that godforsaken question Why?,

I fibbed and said college wasn’t for me, and that I wouldn’t need it for my dream job.

I didn’t mention that I couldn’t afford college, or my suicide plan, or the fact that I had no dreams.

Now, not long after, I’m intent on breaking myself until I shatter, desperate to feel anything after I died inside so long ago and left a scarred shell behind that walks and talks and laughs and smiles, but most of all hides and cries.

I’ve tried suffocating myself. I tried drowning myself. I dont cut simply because I can’t find a blade.

I have dreams but I’m constantly assured by EVERYONE I won’t be anything special I nod and change the topic because I know.

<p>I’m abused and home and I know I deserve it, every nasty truth they sneer before saying they love me and sending me away, every hit that lands hard enough to hurt but either smartly hidden or delivered in a way I won’t bruise.  I’m breaking,

With few things giving me happiness, and humans bringing me pain with nasty looks and cruel words that hurt so bad but I nod and agree.

My friends don’t even know how much it hurts me to hang around them, as my darkest demons whisper how much happier they would be without me.

But selfishly I cling to them.

I need help but I dont deserve it, and I’m so, so sorry to whoever read this that I bothered you.

But again tonight I'll whisper to both sides.
How can it get better?
How can it get worse?