These words are nothing compared to what I'm feeling.
I am constantly fighting for control of my mind.
Words as simple as 'what the worst that can happen'
Wedged into every thought and I am forced to believe it.
Tormented as a kid with these wicked thoughts.
Misunderstood growing up is the worse feeling anyone could go through.
But I'm here, barely.
Suicidal thoughts escalate to the front of my mind.
I smoke and drink to ease the pain momentarily.
Because if I didn't I would probably be dead by now.
I'll smile and tell you nothing is wrong.
But lately the pain has been building up.
Its become harder to smile. My nights have become sleepless.
The people in my circle grow thin.
My body grows weak.
I am lost more than ever.
It feels like everything everyone tells me is a lie.
Females are in and out my life.
The only steady thing I have is my pen and pad.
I find peace in the ink I use to write.
Because I am going through such a mental war.
