I thought love would be nice. For once, things would be "okay".
Fuck it. Forget all of it. Just another game, was it not?
I needed you the most, when I was holding the knife to my wrist. Where were you? With HER.
Here I was. Once again believing. You would've thought I would know better by now. Clearly, I don't.
I don't sleep. I don't eat. I don't talk. I don't smile. I don't think. I don't move. I don't breathe. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.
I really thought this time it would work. I really need to stop hoping. Seems like everything just crushes me these days.
Sometimes, I wonder what I did wrong. What didn't I give you? What else did you want? What could I have done to fix this all?
But then, I see you, with her. You moved on. I didn't do anything wrong. You did.
You broke me. My tears, each night, a waterfall basically.
My biggest fear came true. You see me how I see myself, how everyone sees me.
I'm: Depressed. Again.
I'm done. I'm dead. I'm gone.