Lying, crying, dying.
I'm so sick of pretending
that I'm alright.
I'M NOT OKAY.
I'm not...
anything you wanted me to be.
Not pretty or worthy or happy,
in one piece, surviving.
Not even alive.
This body sports the battle scars
of every day in your house.
I'm so fucking dead inside
I don't even know how to feel.
I thought it would be hard
to find somebody I hated
more than myself.