12/21, 1AM
I'm always the dramatic one. And whatever happens, it doesn't really matter. Everyone's got it worse. Why should I complain? I have a roof over my head. I have food on my table. I can sleep in the comfort of my bed between my blankets. And I can hug my dog.
That's the way everyone sees it. And maybe they're right. No. They ARE right.
I'm always the dramatic one. And when others feel down, they come to the rescue. No one ever rescues me. No one ever did. And I got used to it.
I got used to being alone in a room with nothing more than rusted scissors and the monsters in my head.
Everyone's pain is so tangible. And mine is a ghost. And I rather believe they don't see it, than to think they choose to ignore it. Although I know they do ignore it.
When I bleed I cover it up. Maybe if someone sees it, they'll pretend it never happened. On the bus, my scars shine under the sun. And i'm scared people will look at it.
I'm surrounded by papers with the faces of those I admire the most. I keep photographs of those I love, they are my most guarded possessions. I can't understand any of this. How is this even worth it.
I never achieved anything. And it won't happen. Chances are, i'll stay here forever. I'll be a pathetic educator, barely making ends meet. Everyone will leave me, as they should. Because I hurt them and I destroy them. I ruin everything I touch.
I'm doing no good by being here. No good to you or to me.
So what's the point anymore?
I am alone.
I have always been alone.
And i'm so tired of putting so much effort into nothingness.
Into friends who don't like me, don't talk to me, don't want to see me. Into family who hates the failure I am, and keeps repeating me how much of a mistake my existence is.
I love all you. And I shouldn't. I love everyone but myself. And I shouldn't.
This is exhaustive.
I'm tired of living, nothing is ever going to change. I'm tired.
I want to leave. I want to sleep. Everything's going to be okay.
You'll forget I even existed. Everyone will. Life is meaningless. And I am meaningless. Everything will go on.
You don't need to ask. Or worry. If you're capable of it.
I'm sorry you had to meet me. I'm sorry you had to stand my presence.
Finally, I won't bother anyone anymore.
And everything will be fine.
Everything will be fine.
That's the way everyone sees it. And maybe they're right. No. They ARE right.
I'm always the dramatic one. And when others feel down, they come to the rescue. No one ever rescues me. No one ever did. And I got used to it.
I got used to being alone in a room with nothing more than rusted scissors and the monsters in my head.
Everyone's pain is so tangible. And mine is a ghost. And I rather believe they don't see it, than to think they choose to ignore it. Although I know they do ignore it.
When I bleed I cover it up. Maybe if someone sees it, they'll pretend it never happened. On the bus, my scars shine under the sun. And i'm scared people will look at it.
I'm surrounded by papers with the faces of those I admire the most. I keep photographs of those I love, they are my most guarded possessions. I can't understand any of this. How is this even worth it.
I never achieved anything. And it won't happen. Chances are, i'll stay here forever. I'll be a pathetic educator, barely making ends meet. Everyone will leave me, as they should. Because I hurt them and I destroy them. I ruin everything I touch.
I'm doing no good by being here. No good to you or to me.
So what's the point anymore?
I am alone.
I have always been alone.
And i'm so tired of putting so much effort into nothingness.
Into friends who don't like me, don't talk to me, don't want to see me. Into family who hates the failure I am, and keeps repeating me how much of a mistake my existence is.
I love all you. And I shouldn't. I love everyone but myself. And I shouldn't.
This is exhaustive.
I'm tired of living, nothing is ever going to change. I'm tired.
I want to leave. I want to sleep. Everything's going to be okay.
You'll forget I even existed. Everyone will. Life is meaningless. And I am meaningless. Everything will go on.
You don't need to ask. Or worry. If you're capable of it.
I'm sorry you had to meet me. I'm sorry you had to stand my presence.
Finally, I won't bother anyone anymore.
And everything will be fine.
Everything will be fine.
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