"I can’t put on a fake smile,
I can’t say that everythings fine.
I can’t belive that everything will getting better. - or change.
I can’t hold on anymore.
I want to fall. Fall high, or deep. No matter.
I don’t want to fight anymore,
just because I’m weak.
I just feel the sadness and my lovely depression.
On a strange way, I fall in love with my depression.
I imagine so bad things in my head, how I hurt people. And the worst, how I can hurt me.
I’m disturbed. And obsessed of selfharm.
I want somebody to feel not alone. Or worst lonley.
No one understand me. No one.
I am broken.
So useless. Replaceable. And nothing.
Because of cutting, I feel something.
I’m feeling free. And loved.
I am tired, looking like the walking dead.. But no one ask why.
Tears are words that can’t be said.
I’m tired of pretending to be ok.
I tried so fucking hard.
I am over."