Chapter 66: me talking in depression.

it's her.Words: 1455

I can't handle it

can't handle anything

what are you feeling?

well, loneliness

too much smoke sticking in my hair

too many dancing faces

I suddenly want to ri-ri-rip my skin apart like

this would help me, as if

making me bleed out can help my situation

but it never did

maybe it's just the thought about making anything visible

cause...

you think they don't notice?

I know it's not real, but

there aren't any true clues about my health

it's just up and down and down and steady up and down down down

and I hate to talk about

being drunk sitting on a cold ass bank waiting for a fucking train to bring me to a place I pay too much rent for

I can't even afford a bed to sleep how should I be able to buy me happiness?

I don't even give a shit about money, but this world is so fucking sick

it's all about having sex while being on drugs

it's all about who's got the latest shots to get totally wasted

I watch him dance

I see them smile

I hear her laughing

all the time

and I stop while

feeling my body

stopping to move,

feeling my mind avoiding the groove

I mean

I am okay

I am able to deal with it

after all this time

I can deal with this shit

but

I want to cut the pain out of me and bleed until my mind stops screaming

I want to punch punch punch until my thoughts are finally leaving what's left of my sanity

I want to be the woman you know

I want to be a good friend

I want to be the girl you always knew

but I ...

we all seem to fail sometimes I guess