Princy_Prince2

I have yet to start preparing for my demise. BUT I'VE DUG GROUNDS IN MY MIND FOR THESE GRAVES. In an effort to prevent anyone from seeing me the way I see myself; I try not to scream while holding my mouth shut while I sob myself to sleep.

I WORK HARD TO GET AWAY FROM THESE BRUTILIZING THOUGHTS, BUT THE MORE I WORK AT IT, THE HARDER IT BECOMES. I wish there was a way for me to get out of this never-ending living hell. A MAZE THAT TWISTS MY GUT, HOWEVER, HAS NO ESCAPE.

I WORK DAILY TO BE OKAY AND TO GET BETTER THAN I WAS THE DAY BEFORE. However, at the end of the day, suicide is all I can think about. 

SUICIDE AND HAPPINESS... 

They just seemed to fit in perfect harmony for some strange reason.

SUICIDAL HAPPINESS

To begin with, this was never simple. My feelings and anguish are too intense to adequately describe. I tried to keep myself busy, but it never worked. My mind is on fire inside of me, consuming me within solid walls. All of the roses had lovely exteriors but were all dead within. In the same way that the butterfly I was holding had burned to ash. To show that everything was fine, I had to maintain a smile. However, as soon as the blackness enveloped me, my emotions vanished, and I started to fade.


Just too exhausted to continue. Simply put, I'm too worn out to say anything more.


TOO TIRED