Wednesday, November 16, 2011


I'm praying, and no one's answering.

Just like every other time I prayed.

I'd pray to Jesus, sure; all the fucking time.

I'd plead to him, begging for him to make my mother "normal".

At the time, I thought she just had anger issues.

But no. It was much worse than that.

I hate my mother with all my heart, and I hope she burns in Hell.

I'd pray, but nothing ever got better.

Not even the little things.

"Jesus, please let someone notice how fucking sad I am."

"Jesus, please let tomorrow be better."

"Jesus, please let me know if I'm a normal kid or not."

There was nothing. Nothing ever came to my aid.

I'd just sit around and cry all the time.

But crying didn't do anything, did it?

It'd just increase the pain I was in.

The pain I go through...could it ever compare to the pain others go through?

Does it matter? I'm nothing.

Why do I care if anything related to me even matters?

Don't I already know the answer?

No. I don't matter.

I'm not some important piece to the puzzle that is life.

I'm not some important person that my school couldn't live without.

I'm not some important boy some important girl could somehow love.

I'm not some important son that a mother loves out there.

I'm not anyone to anything.

If I disappeared,

If I just floated into the sky,

If I burned every bridge,

If I just closed one eye and stepped to the side,

If I.


That's all it ever is with me, isn't it?


If things would get better, I swear, I'd try to get better as well.

But I'm in shambles. And the saddest thing is,

I'm not any different from when I started out.

I haven't learned a thing.

And I'm still pointing the finger at who's to blame.

When I should be pointing it into the mirror.

This is all my fault.

This is all my fault.

I used to read the Bible every night.

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