in times of trouble people gather for strength. correction. people are weak. but no one admits this. pretend to be strong, keep going on. deny the feelings in our hearts. do not want to be judged, stick to the norm. i say i’m weak. i want to die. i feel like i don’t belong. secrets, there are none. the honest are lied upon. some give us hope, some will ignore us, many will judge, and there are the wrong who push us. go kill yourself. you’re fat, you’re ugly. and when you die.. people will gather for they are troubled.
not everyone is strong. or able to hold it together as someone else. words kills. the pen is mighty than the sword. i’d rather die to a sword. i’ve probably been killed so many times. it is no wonder i feel like a ghost at times.
the thoughts come out. i’m not depressed i tell myself. i just cling onto thoughts. i cling onto hope. that there is hope for the future. but time and time again i am proven wrong. i stare at the light, but i choose not to cross.