i’m sort of bored and out of touch with reality as per usual at this point but i just thought it would be sort of nice to post some past kinda sad things i’ve written, i guess they’re like poetry but it’s mostly random thoughts. I think the last one resonates the most.

i’m scared i can’t meet anyones expectations, including my own maybe.
but that doesn’t matter as much
if that’s correct i’m truly sorry and i’d do so much for anything to stay the same.
i’m just worried overly most likely but i can’t just ignore my anxieties

–

spontaneously wanting to die and feeling even a little disconnected from reality itself and not really being able to comprehend it.
or thinking about it too much that it’s strange and foreign.
none of this really happening for a particular reason, other than quite possibly having some sort of mental illness relating to depression and its symptoms.
i don’t even know how to describe what i’m feeling in clear words, all of it seems fake, especially now.
wording it in different ways makes it feel more understandable…. but in the end, it’s not.
not even to myself, outside of my thoughts.

–

it is really as if i don’t matter to anyone, being only a convenience or someone that i am not.
there is no realization that i need help, assistance, or comfort.
i don’t, but i do.
never reaching out, it seems to be my own problem.
still undoubtedly worried about such a topic, i convince myself of terrible things.
i solely exist
so that i may simply coexist
it wouldn’t matter if i wasn’t here.
but here i am anyways.
taking up space,
acting as some special being that i am truly not.