i don't really feel like fighting.

even in my dreams i'm suicidal.

i remember the time i dreamt i threw myself off a balcony and i woke up and i wasn't scared and i thought about how i'm suicidal even in my dreams and how my mother might worry if she knew // when i was little, i was apparently happy but i don't remember it that way // i remember crying all the time and being told i had no reason to and i remember being hurt all the time and having no one listen and i don't actually remember much but maybe the reason i think i've always been like this is because the bad things always stick out more // one punch for a hundred handshakes // but i still wish i could go back to being a child to no need to study no need to think about the end of my story because maybe if i were at the start of it again i could change the middle // i could be happy // but even that sentence sounds wrong // maybe sad is just what i'm supposed to be but sad isn't right either // it's more like there's a deep pit inside of me and i live inside it on the bad days but it's so dark that i can't see if this really is the bottom or if there's more to go // it's so dark that i can't see upwards and even if i did the rain would get in the way because it's like there's always rain or fog or some kind of bad weather and on the few days of clear sunshine i am too blinded by the light to remember where the pit is so i fall down it again and again and now i don't know if i will ever really be happy // my mother keeps all of our baby teeth in a little wooden box with a monkey on the outside // when the dentist pulled my sister's tooth out he gave it back to her wrapped in plastic wrapping like a trophy but when i had four teeth pulled i didn't get to keep any of them // not one // (nothing i do is worth rewarding) // the good grades are just another good grade // but no one gets to see the hard work the sleepless nights the self harm the worthless feeling // everyone sees the bad grades bad things failures shortcomings because that's the only time they bother to look // i've been wearing the same name for fifteen years and i still don't feel like a part of my own family // or myself // i've been waiting my whole life to be good at something and i still haven't found it // i can control the dreams i have in my sleep sometimes but i can't seem to pin one down to chase because nothing seems to want me in its home and what am i to do but wake and feel miserable and sleep and dream of horrible things like blood like pain like abuse like people who have left me like killing myself but wait // do i really want that? // the finality of it all scares me // life seems unbelievably pointless // but death // even moreso // there is something so utterly underwhelming about eternity // how will this all end // if there is never an end to anything?