I kill myself emotionally. Everyday. No matter how happy I seem, I kill myself. Nothing is what consumes me. Sweet Oblivion of Nothing. My life hangs itself. It is rushed to a hospital, only to die.
My happy face? It's a mask that I want to break for you. Maybe you like to think everything is fine and I am over-reacting, but I swear if you saw what I see when I look in a mirror you would think differently.
Bitch.
Worthless.
Nothing.
Ugly.
Untalented.
Stupid.
Pointless.
Everyday I fight to get up, but why? So I can get kicked again? So I can live a miserable little fuck up life? Maybe both, maybe neither.
Maybe one day I'll be gone like they want. When I am they will be happy. I'll be in hell, but maybe hell is better than them.
