Lost of words of the death I felt within. Felt like I was losing myself trying to fit in. Not a crowd of people that reject the acceptance of society thats insecure, but trying to fit in to a life that wasn't me. Draining myself from a misconception of being perfect, thinking maybe my father would want me. Maybe I won't be a disappointment and a statistic of a stereotypically black culture. Black is just my skin, but my mental is a motion. A motion of thoughts thats all clustered and trying to mound function. Consistent thoughts of perfection is swelling up my brain. Its really hard trying to be sane. Are we really normal? Or is normal is just what we say? Normalizing my thoughts, how is that possible, thinking in the dark make me have suicidal options. Lying on the floor with tears down my face, thinking who I was going to disappoint today put me in a situation where I almost wasn't here today. If it wasn't for God, that was my biggest mistake. I should of prayed before I took a blade to slice my arm. Almost deep, but not too deep just how I feel for you, but I can't feel you. Life took me on a roller coaster. I gave my whole life to you when you saved me. I'm grateful, I could of been dead, but that blade helped me. Helped me realize I needed help. God saved me. Hit rock bottom all I could do is rise. I thrived and all I could do is smile. Thats pride.
- A messy appearance from a beautiful soul-