He’s turning 20, In a couple of weeks, for a day, he’ll be happy, but he can’t run away from the fact he’s unhappy.

A letter of a suicidal kid

Dear Me,

How I wish I can hug you when you hurt yourself,
How I wish I can hold you when you’re cold,
How I wish I could’ve ended my story differently with a family, a life worth living
Without me feeling like my life is worth killing.

Finding Paradise

and to pretend that everything is okay,
just to convince ourselves not to break,
is the most painful lie that exists
because paradise is gone, and we’re still here.

the story so far

I’ve changed, lost a pound or 2 to depression and insecurity
Realized what I lack was maturity 
Because deep down I felt that I was hideous,
People saying you look good? sounds ambiguous,
Because who would love a fat-fuck who’s having a delusional breakdown thinking his so-called friends abandoned him?