Dark and desolate. Deep inside there's a true you, a true feeling. But it's burden with the filthy emotions of being human. Inside I'm already dead. No matter how many smiles are made and given. Its still dead inside. Cause you can never bring the dead back to life. It doesn't matter how many times I move on, it comes back. The taughting, the uncontrollable desires are never over. I open a wound that I just keep picking at. Each time I reopen it, it's gets bigger and hurts more. I know it'll become a scar and remain with me forever. But I just can't get rid of it.
It'll always come back to remind me of what I've truly become. I'm the one who open the door that was not meant to be open door and this is my punishment. To suffer with unhappiness , to be reminded of my stupid mistakes. People ask me about it, and all I can do is make excuses and lie. But it's become tiresome. I'm tired of living. I'm tired of fearing the worst. I'm tired of fighting the demons who keep returning. My only true escape is death but it'll become a burden among others. I don't want to create anymore burdens so I'll just accept it's never really over. I'll remain a tired depressed suicidial girl who fights for no reason.
YOU ARE READING
Suicidal Journal
Teen FictionEnter a mind of one who is confused. Someone who has no one to talk to. Someone who agonizes in pain and desperation. This is a story about a typical teen's suicidal journal. *please note that this story is written poetically*
