The Complete Truth

I'm done

I was once asked how many days I feel like dying. Everyday. I was asked if I thought I was normal. I have never been 'normal'. I was asked if I hurt. 24/7, it never seems to stop. I was asked if I cut for attention. If I just wanted attention, why the fuck would I hide them? I was asked if I was still willing to fight. If they would've asked that two years ago when this first started, my answer would've been yes, but now, I have no more strength to fight. I was asked if I'm okay. Silly mortal, of course I'm not, I've never been okay, why do you keep asking? You should know my answer. I was asked why I always wear black, or at least one piece of black clothing. I wear the clothes that represent my mood, black is dead, I'm dead inside, no emo joke meant. I was asked why I dye my hair. Well because, I'm not happy with my looks I will do anything to change them, even if it kills me. I was asked why I cut. Because, people don't realize the words they tell me everyday breaks me, now if they see them, they'll know. 

"Why don't you eat?"

Because I need to starve to be skinny, "I'm not hungry"

"You'll be okay"

If only you knew, "Yeah, I know"

"Damn, you did that to yourself? Your fucking crazy."

I'm sorry, I thought I could trust you, "Yeah, totes"

"Hey fatass, move, your in my way."

I'm still fat? But I haven't eaten I three days, "Sorry"

"He'll come back around, don't worry."

He's gone, he left, like everyone else, "Yeah, okay, I won't"

Every time I answer 99 times out of 100 I'm telling a complete lie. No one seems to notice though, so I just stay silent. All I have to do is put on the smile, I worked hard to get right, on. And bam! I look just like everyone else. I look happy, if only I felt happy. I'm tired of this, I'm done.