Maybe, this time it’s easier.



It’s easier to close my eyes and to never open it again.

I can’t handle all the emotional pain that is lingering inside me.

I don’t know how to deal with life anymore.

Waking up in the morning is more like a curse than a gift.

Or maybe, if it’s a gift, let it be curse.

It’s hard that every time I wake up in the morning, nothing has changed.

I am that same lonely guy wishing for some peaceful mind.

Many people believe that depression is only in the mind.

If that’s the case, why is it that my heart is so heavy?

How I wish that all the weight my heart holds can be transferred to my pocket.

At least in my pocket, I can easily throw all the pain away.

But I can’t.

Only if I can tear my chest and throw my heart out, that would be great.

Only if dying is so easy, that would be the first thing I’ll do the next morning.



My tears are tired of falling.

My cheeks are shouting at me to wipe the pain as it traverse them.

I am blinded by my own life.

I am here, just waiting for the right time to snatch death.

Oh, I am so selfish to say that.

How about the people who love me if I die?

Well, I know there are people who treat me special but who cares?

At the end of the day, or even at the start of it, they still don’t know the pain I’m living with.



I am so pathetic.

After all the pain, I know I’ll be dead in any way.



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