Hunger strike 

I can’t help it. I am angry…at what you may ask…I’m not sure anymore but I feel that rage inside just under the surface. It boils up at moment and I can feel that bomb inside me ready to go off and then…nothing at all. It goes quiet. But it’s still there. I’m not a happy person and the older that I get the most that unhappiness comes out. I hate those had it easy and never had to struggle to gain friends and be part of the it crowd. Rage comes back. Fuck high school. That’s what I gotta say to four years that I don’t look back at all in almost no good terms. I learned the game that was being taught, people like me don’t fit in. I was not normal inside to understand that I was just wrong to want to fit in. 

I carry with me those scars. They have sat for so long under the surface. Just waiting for them to heal but time has not helped. I tell myself the big lie, the lie that’s enough to just be happy to be alive. But it’s a lie I sell myself because if not..if not..

I can stare at myself in the mirror and I see it in my eyes. It does not want to go away quietly. That demon in my souls wants to just hurt..hurt..hurt..hurt. Take all that pain and feed off of it. Mother fucker it screams. You can’t be normal. Stop trying. 

And maybe yet maybe there is hope…hope. There world isn’t going to say sorry for the shitty hand it kept giving me but then why should it, its all my fault. I crossed the lines, burned the bridges or did the damage to all those I have ever loved…yeah only me..no one to blame. No one at….a…l…l…there I said it… 

I have done too much damage to myself it seems. 

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