It’s a Wednesday night.
I’m sitting in my room.
Listening to the Dion and the Belmonts station on Pandora.
It’s started again, the aching tiredness.
I’m sad all the time. I hurt myself and tell myself how much i hate being me. How i’m in everyone’s way and how i really should just get out of the picture.
Maybe everyone is right. I’m an annoying bitch. I’m such a stuck-up loser. I’m fake. I’m just pretending to be an interesting person.
I know you wouldn’t care if i was gone. I’d fade from your memory in time.
I’m just in the way.