Do you ever sit down and wonder to yourself, how the hell am I going to make it through life. How the hell am I going to accomplish my dream when I can't even being to imagine how to get past every day circumstances.
You ever wish you could just end it here?
Sometimes that sounds so damn good. But isn't it also being a coward? I know running away from my problems does nothing. Only for a short while do they feel gone until they come rushing back. But why do I feel guilty for wanting to end myself? Surely not for my own being. I wish I could explain to you how much better I would be if I simple wasn't here. How could I get you to understand the ache and the longing I feel my soul reaching for so desperately- to just sleep forever. To end it right here. How could I get you to understand what I know is so wrong but want so badly? What I need. How could I ever tell you- that loving me is letting me go-
Please. Tell me how.
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My Only Language is Words
Slumpmässig kategori"It played out so perfectly, so full, so wonderous... but then I woke up". ~~~~ "The blade of imagination is a force to be reckoned with"~~~~ Somewhat insignificant rambles~ Also called "poetry" I suppose
