i'm sad ] =

i'm sad. don't know why. may be losing will to live.

i composed this poem coming to class.

I never learned to cry
the night you learned to die.
I only learned that I'm
no good at suicide.

first version as a comment on ShazzaRose's post.

Shazza, my friend, i'd check it every day, but my internet at home goes in and out (no pun intended! XP) and the only reason i can post everday like this is that i hijack a comp at school, and the damn comp won't let me get onto MCR's webstie.

we were studying transcendentalism in English and one of the things you're supposed to be 'balanced' with is SOLITUDE, and the teacher asked why.

Me: You act different when you're alone. You may act one way when you're at school-

Knight (some kid in class): Fake.

Me: *unphased* and you act a different way in front of your parents-

Knight: FAKE.

Me: I never said fake. I'm just saying that people act different-

Knight: yeah - those bitches act FAKE.

************* (13 stars, bay-bee)

i wear so many facades
i don't know who i really am.
i'm afraid to pull of the masks
because of who i might be
underneath.

i don't have the
luxery
to be my
true self.

if i was, i'd be
institutionalized
faster than i can
blink.

i feel like writing more suicide poems, but i don't know why. am i losing the will to live? am i just losing hold with my body? am I already dead inside?

all i know is that i can't die until i see how the whole Hellboy saga works itself out. does he die? does he finally rule the Apocalyptic world? i gotta know . . . .

~Jink the depressed