Humans see the world full of cheer and bliss,

I see it much more than this.

I believe the world is nothing but an abyss.

Then at the very end you just give in to death's kiss

Yes, life is like this.

 

The world I live in, the one inside my head, is much more complex

It is filled with conflicts and it's pointing at me like I'm a convict.

This world isn't sweet or cheery, it's full of misery and it's weary.

It is not because of my mother, or father.

It is not because of my siblings or teachers.

It is not the other adults or preachers.

It is all merely in my head.

These past experiences became such a dread.

 

My parents became divorced when I was four.

I lived with my mom, our family wasn't fortunate, no food in the fridge, and no money for the bills.

I watched my mother struggle trying to  get paid.

My father constantly working, and torturing his body every single day.

I grew up witnessing my sister follow the bad life.

She was doing drugs and drinking on the sideline.

While I'm just trying to live even though my story has no outline.

 

My life isn't full of daisies and roses, it is full of thorns and a closet full of corpses.

People believe I'm pretty morbid, and I believe I should have been aborted.

I did my time with therapy, but in the end I found no remedy.

I'm not trying to look for pity, or have anyone feel sympathy.

I'm just trying to show everyone that we all think differently.

That some of us believe we're not simple and sweet, but a bittersweet tragedy.

I am just merely an example and I hope others will understand by this sample.

This is who I am.

I am just a mere entity.

A simple alien who refuses to be a human.

I don't define myself then that will make me like the rest of them.

I am not something that is out of the dictionary.

I'm pretty out of the ordinary, because it's boring when you're ordinary.

I like to think myself as limited edition, despite the fact that my mind is in bad condition.

These demons inside causes great affliction, but it's my addiction.

I could tell more of my past but it shouldn't be mention.

Some things are better kept silent, or else it could cause tension.

This is who I am.

No one defined me, not my parents, siblings, teachers, or any preachers.

No one but me defined me, and my experiences created me.

In all honesty, I'm actually grateful for everything.

I know it's hard to tell because I spend most time with my anxiety, over-thinking,  and constant fear of being lonely.

What can I say? This depression is my obsession.

My negativity weighs on me, but I know I need redemption.

However, this story is my inception.