Chapter 57: real.

Letters ✔Words: 484

I'm not suicidal anymore,

But of course my illness won't go away.

I'm sad on the line when someone calls,

Yet that's never what I say.

I'm not suicidal for now,

But I learned that I'm the most miserable human.

I'm always sad, wow,

You still don't care, I think you're inhuman.

I'm so miserable,

I want to cry all the time.

Melancholy kills me

Mostly at bed time.

So kill me now ,

Even though I don't want to die,

I don't want to suffer

Through this horrible world that I call my life.