It's hard to admit that I hate myself, but I can feel my own resentment.
It's hard to accept who I am some days.
I'll never be completely understood by anyone,
My emotions and my thoughts are my own worst enemy.
Then comes the time I lay in bed with the dark room surrounding my own existence, my day replays throughout my head.
Almost every instance is tainted with some sort of fucked up feeling that I can't explain.
My mind is so cloudy and my chest is so heavy.
I'm alive but I'm praying to God for that glimpse of hope, so I just don't break everything else in my life
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