• Facing the Truth My life ie a book, page after page. Horror, Happiness and lots of rage. Everyone reads it, but no one has figured it out. They judge my book because of all my doubts. I can't help that i am this way. I didn't ask you to read it, I didn't tell you to stay. Page after page, you keep the book open. Interrupt me asking "Why are you so broken?". My rely is weak, I have no words left. But you keep on going without a breath. I don't like my thoughts being thrown around. You misunderstand me, you point and you frown. You laugh, you joke, I'm you and your friends sick little game. Well I hope you enjoy but I'm not the one that's lame. I do what I can to help, believe me I do. But I don't think you're willing for me to help you. -me

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