Nobody know the real me. Nobody knows how many times I've cried in my room when nobody was watching. Nobody knows how many times I have lost hope, how many times I've been let down. Nobody knows how many times I've felt like I'm gonna snap, but I just don't, for the sake of others. Nobody knows the thoughts that go through my head when I'm sad, how horrible they truly are.
Nobody. Knows. Me.
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Anxiety
الشعرAnxiety is hard; I decided to write this 5 years ago and I rarely update. I come back to read what I had as this description, "there is no escape." I lied, there is an escape. I don't know how to feel to about this book anymore but most seem to enjo...
