My head is a hell hole, that's been established six years ago when my head was bashed into the wall of my old elementary school in a hell hole of a state by the local bully.
I remember going back to class with an ice pack being held to my head, and all of the kids laughing at me because my glasses fell crooked because so.
My head is an asylum.
That's been established four years ago when I realized the friends I had were better off without me, and that, well, I was a waste of space. For both my fellow students and my teachers.
My head is a prison.
That was established two years ago, when I sat on the bleachers for the school ensemble about bullying and talked to the most beautiful girl ever, and kept silent about how she made me feel because I was scared that how I felt would ruin what I hoped was the beginning of a close friendship.
My head is a prison.
That was established this year, when I almost took my life because my world came crashing around me because I felt like I wasn't good enough for anybody, not even my dear sister or the girl who I had dated three times on and off because we were both scared for each other...
But even all prisons have visiting hours.