• theghostwing 80w

    I want to die

    But do I really? Barely standing, unable to leave thy bed and yet I stand. It doesn't make sense, nothing has since then. All these distractions and lies overcoming and forcing me into submission, so roughly ruining me. Sick bastards getting of off brutaly ending me, wishing me sweet release. Do I wish it? All I ever wished was a moment to re-think, sleep and nonexist. For a moment of grief. For the world to bleed. So I can see clear for what I need. Relapse back into breathing and continuing on. Back to square one. Emotional distress building up for an emotional break up and a Billion poems waiting to be made for ears to read. Is everything alright? Is it as it's meant to be? A laugh and spit in my face, now help me. They ruin me.