I lay here broken
without a sound
nobody cares
nobodies around
they called me useless
they called me fake
there isn't much more
of this I can take
all this weight on my arms
and their about to break.
I grab my journal
and begin to write
trying to continue
to fight
my pen makes contact
the paper tears
it's been soaked in all my tears
im out of luck
that was my last page
this is too much to deal with
at my age
all these feeling locked up
with me in a cage.
I have no way to fight
so I guess I choose flight
I grab me blade
and go to the light.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
I lay here broken
without a sound
nobody cares
nobodies around
they called me useless
they called me fake
there isn't much more
of this I can take
all this weight on my arms
and their about to break.
I grab my journal
and begin to write
trying to continue
to fight
my pen makes contact
the paper tears
it's been soaked in all my tears
im out of luck
that was my last page
this is too much to deal with
at my age
all these feeling locked up
with me in a cage.
I have no way to fight
so I guess I choose flight
I grab me blade
and go to the light.
if I don't write back soon...im probably dead
