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You think I like this?
Being angry all the fucking time?
Or depressed?
Or whatever the fucking flavor of the day is?

It's hell.
I can't fucking escape it.

Medicine.
Counseling.
Talking.

Nothing fucking helps.
The only cure I fucking have is sleep.
You don't know how lucky I consider myself to be because I never dream.

Do you know how fucking often I think about it?
Just offing myself?
So that way I can be asleep forever?
Undreaming and unfeeling?

It'd be the greatest thing that's ever happened to me.
I'd love to know what it's like to be in comfort.
To not worry how my next wild fucking mood swing will make me act.

Maybe today I'll bitch out the only person to ever give a fuck about me!
Oh! I hope I add new scars to my body!
If I'm lucky, I'll try and end myself, only to pussy out!

It's fucking disgusting.
I'm fucking disgusting.
All this shit I put myself through.

Why the fuck don't I think I deserve happiness?

Why the fuck am I trying to remeber where my razor is?

Why the fuck am I about to burst into fucking tears because how much of an asshole I was?

Why the fuck can't I be happy?