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poem2 i wrote.

roaming these overcrowded streets i never felt so alone. bobbing my head to the steady beat of my heart to remember im still alive. how could the world i created for myself be so cold and cruel? somehow i slowly become one of the few thats slipping through the cracks. i keep asking myself y, but maybe im not askin the right question. i always find myself running, but the thing is wat am i running from? am i running from myself? suffocating, watching my life pass me by like in the movies. dying isnt so bad, i guess; but its kind of lonely. my mind never stays put it just drifts from one disappointment to the others continually, roatating, driving me insane. just one hit and ill be fine, 20 bucks bitch cash, but too many narks hard to find sum1 to trust in this hell hole. the feeling i miss being so high im flying. but just how much am i willing to lose before it pushes me over the edge? am i going to have to die first. or am i already dead? i feel so lost. where do i belong if i feel i dont belong here??

a poem i wrote.

i hope this is another dream. im at home in my bed head on the pillow. y do these thoughts,visions haunt me. why me? i just want to be normal, a regular kid. although, i will never be normal, the voices will always intereign. it wasnt intentional to turn out this way, i got lost tryin to find who i really am. before i knew it the voices took over. "ur worthless,nothing it wont matter, no one will even care, just do it. kill." what do i do when the voices return, they will continually chant until i disappear. each cut makes the whispers softer, no one understands, i cry or help but no one can hear... i cant blame them , how are they supposed to help when i cant even help myself? the guns in my hand, the voices again... "trash, whore, wat are u waiting for? ur nothing, whos stopping you?" no. "liar, slut!" no. "pull the trigger!" no, stop please!! "pull it!" No, please! "NOW..." everything stops...silence, seeing myself from above pressed hard, glidding down the wall to the floor. a single tear falling like ice. blood splatters still stain the carpet. every once n awhile i go back to ask myself y..y i didnt fight harder? i stopped the voices the night i went over the stars...then again...sum1 had to stay and finish the story.....
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