This is me Hiding in the corner with a book lost in someone else's imagination
I wish I could tell you that it goes away, that it gets better, that you'll get over it.
I hate to kill you, I'd hate to die, you seem a decent fellow as well
That's important, that you tell people good things you see in them. Not everyone can see good in themselves.
I saw him. He held a razor to his wrist, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. He kept whispering, "Just do it. Just do it. Just do it." I saw him, trying to convince himself to cut his life off, and I had no idea how to stop him, or if I should try. When … Continue reading Reaching Back
There is at least a small chance, still, that this life is my dream and one day I will wake to find that nothing was lost.
when we were kids we would play and laugh and it never mattered if we got hurt because we were going to live forever