if only tears can talk,
maybe it can speak for the things
that i shut myself for.

i feel like if i am really vulnerable,
i would actually try doing something that isnt so me,
i would try all the ***** i despised,
drugs, smoke, sell myself, and back to self-harm again even,
i would actually do it,
but in the back of my mind,
i could see a version of me,
being disappointed of myself,
when they found out,
their faces of disgust and disappointment,
i would rather die in a second than seeing that;
or am i the only who are just expecting too much?

i always feel the urge for people to understand me,
so, they wont misunderstand me,
in a way i feel like im being eaten up alive and ridiculed,
but also;
it’s not their fault for not understanding,
because i also realize,
i did nothing in my power to understand them.