I fucking hate it.

I can't cry over this.

I can't die from this.

But I wish I could.

I don't understand it. I finally told part of my life story to someone. They didn't respond like I wish they did.

I mean, I should have figured it.
How can you love a monster like me?
I want to be called names, that would be so much better than what actually happened.

I feel absolutely nothing about it. I just want to die, get life over with.

Why did I end up like this? So fucked up. God dammit, I hate it.

I want to cry, but I just cant. I don't understand anymore.

I'm so tired, I can't even get out of bed. I'm so sad, that I feel nothing.

Why do you ask me these questions if you can't handle them? God, it hurts, both physically and mentally.

And me liking girls. I'm sorry dad. I didn't choose to be like this. I would change if I could, but I fucking can't so please stop yelling at me.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

That I'm pathetic, gross, weak, ugly, and all that other shit.

I'm just so fucking done.