My WHOLE life is a mess. A sad truth that no one can guess. That I desperately need a helping hand. As I felt I'm slowly threading through endless sand.
A help I need, but NO ONE CAME. The signal that I need to end this game. But my selfishness and stubbornness Is urging me to continue this useless game of chess.
Everyone around me thinks that I'm alright. But myself is far from 'alright'. It may have been because of my mask. It's a perfect fit that no one can unmask.
They said that families are pillars of life. I know they are, they help us thrive. But such privilege is out of my reach as my family only made me feel like a useless leach.
Their words is like a knife. Cutting me down to end my life. Those words makes me sad; it makes me sick. To the point it made me wish that everything was just a bad trick.
These are the truths only I can express. As I write with pain that I still continue to suppress. How can I get out of this wretched life? Maybe the only option is to get a sharp knife?
But is choosing DEATH really a solution? Or it is the only proof of my desperation? Only time can tell my tale before I decide that it's time to FADE in this lonely tale.
I can already imagined their shocked faces. If they discovered that I'm ending my own race. Perhaps it's because of this pain that I'm still standing amidst this endless rain.
Is this what they call 'courage'? Is it the reason why I am still here? Is my body full of courage? No, I am not. Especially when I wished I wasn't here.
Especially when I'm thinking of marrying Death to escape from this narrow path. Perhaps it is my FEAR that leads for me to hang on these feeble threads.
These threads that might look strong but can't hold on for so long. I don't think I can still go on in this facade. Perhaps I'll just talk with DEATH to do a one time trade.
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