A Shoulder to Cry On

I just feel like I need to bleed this wound out. Just like a festering and infected wound, I need to bleed out all these feelings to heal. But where to begin and where to end? An axious pressure is starting to build up in my chest, I take deep breaths, trying to keep t down. Violent sobs are trying to free themselves, it's so late, or early; depending on how you see it. Two o'clock in the morning, I don't ever stay up this late, but I can't find sleep.

I'm on the verge. I can feel the edge, I am right next to it. On the verge of a breakdown. I feel like I am always being tossed around, from one facade to the next. Am I this person or that person. Everyone seems to want something different from me. I though certain people knew me, but I think I was just trying to fool myself, because I don't even know me. How can I expect others to love me, when I don't love myself. I hate myself. I am disgusting, revolting, I lose my appetite when I think about it. Why am I this way? I hate myself for thinking this way, and I hate that I hate myself.

The pressure is building. I have school in only a number of hours. My mind is unwinding, leaving behind loose ends. Will it be better soon? It wasn't but a few weeks past that I truly felt like killing myself, will that happen again? What if it does? Will I buy the pills this time? Maybe it's good that I am a coward, because that is the only reason I am still living. I want to leave this earth before anyone else finds out how terrible I am. What's this feeling that is eating away at me? Guilt? Pressure? Fear? I don't know. And that's all I seem to know, is "I don't know". Is there anything I know? Is my name Alanna? I don't know. It doesn't feel right anymore, as if the name doesn't belong to me anymore.

The pressure is building and I am about to explode.