Why is it that I wait until night to fall apart? Why do I wait until I'm in my room with the door shut and the lights off to break down?
Why do I cry myself to sleep more often than not?
Why am I so sad so much? Why have I not been feeling anything lately? Why do I feel like I'm not really here and like nothing matters and my life is just a waste of time? Why do I feel like such a waste of space?
Why do I hate myself so much?
Why am I so afraid to ask for help when I know all of this is tearing me apart?
Why is it that when I open up to people I don't fully open up to them? Why have I never told anyone things that I've thought about doing, but never done? Why haven't I told anyone?
Why am I so afraid and anxious and sad all the time?
Why do I feel so, so bad when I mess up?
Why can't I accept compliments?
Why do I put myself down for every little thing I do?
Why do I hurt myself?
Why?
Author's Note
I don't like it when I cry in front of people, so I always wait until I'm in my bedroom in the dark with the lights off and the door locked.
YOU ARE READING
The Light in the Dark (Completed)
PoetryCover made by the amazing @mikeyspizzadope (go check them out they're cool) It's 3 A.M., and you can't sleep. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest. Your ears are ringing, echoing in your brain, and everything hurts so badly. Your...
