No-one reads this anymore, maybe I'm glad to get out my feelings without judgement but part of me wants to be heard. Oh, look at me, the little attention whore. Your problems aren't as bad as everyone else's so get over it. You don't deserve sympathy you snivelling pile of mush. You amount to nothing and you never will. You should just go fucking die, asshole. You're not important, people only need you because of how you help them. They want your help, not you. Do you really think anyone likes you? You can't even call anyone cause you are too much of a scardeycat. Crybaby, your a fucking crybaby. You're gonna fucking cry, you're gonna fucking cry, and just because someone died. I don't care anymore. Only reason I haven't left is because I'm sure I can make something out of the broken pieces and unless it's your last resort, it's only running away from your problems. I'm too much of a coward to leave here anyway. They don't really want to talk to me, I'm just a burden... holding them back. Tbh, I'm never going to fucking leave because even if a child is dripping blood cradled in my arms, I'll help everyone. Even if they don't care. Idfk what the world says, I'm going to help them, to my own detriment but at least they'll be okay.

I want to make this clear, I AM NOT SUICIDAL. and I doubt I ever will be.

Cry like there's no end, no tommorrow.
Your sad, don't keep it inside

I know I annoy people, I'm a fucking annoying bitch. I need to learn not to swear, hold my tongue and fucking curtsey. Yes sir, No sir, shall I pour your tea sir. I'm a fucking mess, am I under control anymore?

Just cry, let it all out, doesn't matter if you fall out.

I'm the type where they think you're over-reacting, and I probably am. Should I write another suicide fic? This time to a different character? Should they die this time? Can they fly this time? We'll get out the vortex I guess, descend into a few years coma. When you wake up, they'll know you weren't faking but it's too late.

Cry, I don't mind
Just breathe and cry.

When someone tells you they thought you were suicidal anyway, and it hurts but you plaster on a fake smile. Get through the day cause tommorrow'll be tougher. It's a messed up thing but it really doesn't matter.

I haven't cried, couldn't get myself to cry. So I'm all here alone, wishing I could cry.