you need to stop leading me on.
you and you and you and you and you.
just leave me alone and grow up.
you boys and girls put a lot of stress on me.

Winter.
That one season
            that keeps you warm inside,
        but slightly numb and dead on the outside.
Winter.
          I figured out that the snow wasn’t just everything,
           but it was only a fraction of what makes us cold.
Winter.
                 It changes your feelings, and ****** you off
                      until you’re late for school
                          because you were up all night,
                                                    sleepi­ng in class,
                                                         passing out in gym,
                                                     coming home half-awake,
                             and laying in bed with your eyes in a shade of red
                      
                           because you know that you’re tired.

You’re tired of Winter,
                 and begging for spring.
Spring.
       She finally came around
                   and    danced   like   the   melody    of    moonlight  
             sonata.
                    She was slower than the rest of the seasons.


I was still dead.

Spring.

The feeling of seeing others happy makes me shiver, I hate it. I hate being the only one with
                                      nothing there

Every single day, you look into that ******* mirror.
Are you happy?
Do you see what you want to see
or is there a stranger glaring back at you?
Well, no. There isn't.
When you look into the mirror, you shouldn't see anything except for what you created.
That's all and that's it.
You shouldn't think so low of an amazing thing that you have made on your own.
You did this, so own up to it.
But still, you look in that mirror the next day
and you ask yourself,
"who are you?"