tortured. lacking in artistic ability.
i think it must have been in middle school, when i first got suspended. my father made me feel like i have nothing to offer. i felt like i was nothing, a pain in every persons side. i can see it on the backs of my eyelids, my dad's face. i think thats when it stopped. by it, i mean happiness. since then, ive been using music, drugs, sex, friends, beer, tobacco, whatever i could find to fill that gap. ive told myself things like "she makes me happy" or "tobacco calms my nerves" etc. but the truth is as soon as those things aren't there, im me. the me ive been since that day. like i have two personalities: depression and faking.
im probably just sick.
im probably just sick.