I feel so silly, but yet see the reflections of pain on my skin. I see my dark thought’s when I see myself in the merrier and then the sad follows when the steps of lonely come in line. I have imagined that someone could get help, but I only get numbers on a paper, and the deep thoughts mean nothing; they tell me the same, and here I am writing. I don’t want to kill myself or others, but at what point will they listen to me? I have said that I have seen bodies; and carried my friend in a bag, and they […]
