I need a break.

I need to scream.

My head is throbbing.

It needs to cease.

This weight that I bury.

I should fucking carry.

But goddammit I'm sick.

Of explaining myself.

I do not have friends.

I only have stress.

This hate in my chest.

And my life seems a mess.

So fuck what I'm told.

I know that I'm stong.

I don't give a shit.

I'm pissed and you're wrong.

So fuck what they say.

And fuck what I don't.

I don't need a soul.

Especially yours.