Sometimes...just sometimes, I just want to sit on floor, put my head on knees, curl into a ball and just...cry and cry.

I don't need any arms, surrounding me telling it's gonna be okay. I don't need anyone.

World may think, I'm over dramatic, I'm weak, I am a coward, I'm an attention seeker,

but they don't know that...
I'm someone who can't be solved or loved by them. They don't know me, they weren't there when I cried countless night.

I've a story, so ugly, so painful that it pierces my heart to inner core.

My story is not limited to love life, I don't even know since when my life had been fucking with me. Every year, every month I thought now this time I won't cry, I will be better.

But nah...idk why everything have to be sooooo messed up.

It's funny how my past controls me, it twists my brain, burns my heart and screams at me...'look at you, still not happy as I predicted.'

When I was child, it was easy to tell where I was hurting... It was easy to control tears, it was so damn easy to laugh...now..my laugh is a foreign scene to me! Now I don't even know if I'm hurting anymore.

And nothing hurts more than being empty.

I look in mirror and think what I've made myself, when it will end, why I'm trying only to hear "you're not enough."

Question is for whom?

Being someone...i don't even want to...will it be enough for me to be happy?

It sucks, it hurts so much that I just...idk.

You know worst part??

I can't cry.

I just sit on floor, clutch my hairs and look at blank wall for five minutes, and then I'm over. Just over!

It may sound filmy, but yeah it helps me.

It's been 14 years of controlling those tears for everyone, to pretend that I'm perfect. I'm good.

It's been 10 years I learned to be a perfect daughter.

It's been 3 years I learned to forget the scars his hands gave me...

It's been 3 hours, I got a message saying, "you're still ugly."

Funny thing is I'm only 17½. I should be thinking about my career. I'm doing it, but sometimes, just sometimes I wanna give up.

Just because...nothing makes sense.

I don't know how much I can endure more, but I just know one thing, I'll keep going, until I'm perfectly  bruised by those invisible scars life gave me. Not only physically, but also those are engraved in my heart with a sharp knife.

I feel weak, suffocated like all walls are closing up on me...I'm so tired by everything associated with my life.

I wish there was a system to die, without hurting others.

******

Don't ask who wrote this, whoever is reading it, you guys need to know this book is many ones's asylum.

It's like the knife, I imagine every word bruising my wrist.

It's like tranquilizer, with every word I feel numb.

It's like my broken whisper, the only difference is I can't speak it out in real.