Do you know what it's like to count your breaths, breathing them as you regret their very existence; What existence signifies purpose to your own being, a being that you hate? I plan, now and here, to end it. Just as many others do, These walls will be painted in my blood, and not a single tear shall be shed.
Unfortunatly, i can not go on with this plan. For the sake of my friends. For the sake of my dad. I have found that when i was 10, he wrote me a letter. My foster parents kept it from me. In it, states that he promises he will be back for me when i am of age, 21. My life continues now only for him. ONLY for him. This hurt i feel, spinning around and around in my head, is growing into anger. Anger towards everyone, and everything thats tried to put me down.
If hes not back, but the end of my 21st birthday, my plan shall go on successfully. Without interruption. Because he never breaks his promise. And if he doesnt come, he is surely dead.
On the outside, im happy. Happy that i got a letter from him. Not showing any sad emotion, because thats not who people think i am.
On the inside, im dying. Dying because i got a letter from him. Dying because it hurts so much to even think that he could be dead on the streets somewhere. Where could he be? He's in a different world, not much like my own.
But nobody knows why i have this mask. Because nobody cares. Because i am nobody.
Because i am unknown.
YOU ARE READING
Random poems and Writings.
PoetryJust some poems and writings saying how i truely feel. Im bleeding these words for you. Take them.
