There was no point my problems are trash compared to the rest of the world, the sweet ice cream couldn't even sweeten up my bitter tears, so all I could do was walk, walk to god knows where, walk to the edge of town and let out the damage from within? I guess so, the wooden bench pricking my skin but without reaction, the numbness and bitter anger settling on my mind until I decided to let it all pour, taking a sharp swig of my sweet drink before letting the glass fly, I'm gonna let it all out without a single fuck given, because I truthfully hate myself even with my knowledge knowing I'm better then any of this, but even the Einstein's of this age must go a little crazy at times right? So I let my blood drip, drip from my dry pale skin. The glass piercing not even satisfying my hunger for feelings other then anxiety and sadness, so with that I walk home, the blood covering my hands and arms all where the world could see, see my pain and tears. But even the calmest go crazy? So what's it too them?
