Why won't this work.

I’ll turn up my music,
Just hoping to block out these thoughts.

I just don’t give a fuck anymore.

There’s something wrong with me.
Deep down inside.
That I just can’t reach.
That I can’t grab a hold of,
And bring to class for you to see,
To inspect.
To dissect.

And you know what,
Sometimes I’m glad.

Sometimes I’m glad I’m not as fucking perfect as you are.
Sometimes I’m glad I cry myself to sleep at night,
Sometimes I’m glad I’m craving a knife that will put an end to all this,
And sometimes I’m glad that I’m going from one bottle to another.

But only sometimes.

But I’m glad you can’t see what’s inside.

It scares me,
Scares me into these thoughts.

Believe me,
My attempts to scare you away.
Are for your own good.

You need to distance yourself.

Because when this disease escapes me,
You wont be able to stop it.
It will hurt you,
And anyone that cared.

Because deep down that’s who I am.

And in the end it all comes down,
To a lack of faith.

In myself.