How the hell am I supposed to like my self?
When no one likes me?
All pretending.
Hiding behind their veils, of comfort.
They can see me, but I can’t see them.
Why is my life so bad.
What have I done.
Given the chance and I’d already be dead.
Given the rope to hang my self,
And a curtain rod strong enough to support my weight,
Yes I think I’d do it.
 
Copyright © blue_bear773, All Rights Reserved