I seek attention, yet I self loathe,
I seek to brag, yet I shy away from people in person,
I seek to glamouize suicide, yet my story is that of only a fight for survival,
I hide my arms, my raw cuts, my scars, pulling my sleeves lower when people’s heads turn, Yet I demand attention,
I shake when communication is a moment of time,
I hurt, and I understand, Yet I am nothing, I am no one, But I am someone wanting to be everyone.
I am Confused,
Reality and fiction finally blur into one.
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