What's Good?

March 2, 2012
I need to stop.
I have to.
I do not know what to do, why I do it even...I'm gonna end up hurting myself more than I wanted to.

I look at the scars still remaining on my wrists and arms. I look at what I did. No one else did it...I DID!

It should not get to that point...it should not to where that's my comfort...my solace...but it has.

I look at the kids who make fun of me.
They all think because they are skinny, popular, there family has money, that they are better than me.
Well, I hate to admit it...but sometimes I feel that way before they even say it.

The girl of my dreams literally doesn't have a clue to who I am.

I don't have any friends.

My own family thinks I need "mental help" because I don't do this because I don't have issues, I'm just "unwell." Does it even matter anymore? I don't know, but...I'm tired of crying myself to sleep at night...

Tired of it...





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