Its all so screwed up.
He didnt know who he was, never.
He's tired and sick of everything.
Yes, there help was offered to him.
He wasn't used to it at all.
After all, all these years, he faced it on his own.
What else is there to make a difference?
He tried opening up,
But failed, miserably.
All his life, he's been keeping it in.
What difference does it make now?
And since when did he actually open up?
He hated himself and didnt wanna be who he was pretending to be.
No, he hated living up to the expectations of others.
Its all gotten into his head.
Trust.
He forgotten what it was, never knew.
Betrayal bestowed.
It got even worse now.
He couldnt help himself.
That feeling of loss, he’d tasted it all these while.
From the start, it was his fault.
If he hadn’t said those words,
then, he wouldn’t be in the state whr he is now.
He has no one to blame but himself.
He just wants to restart everything, everything, another time.
Why is he still breathing?
Time to let go.
Let me go.
Labels: bring me to life