TW ‼️- mention of su!c!de and

Self h@rm

Ya know Ive written this letter a countless number of times. Nothing ever feels right. I mean my life never feels right either. At this point what choice do I have but to end it. Killing yourself is easy. But have I ever stopped and thought, how many times I’ve tried? No, who would truly think about it that much? I do. I think about it every single day. Life is only the depths of hell and the pain is only a mirror reflection. For I was made this way not by accident but by fate. When I look in the darkness I see myself staring back at me. When I cross the street I watch the other kids smiling. When I cut my arms I watch the blood soak my skin. When I end my life it will lead to a new beginning. When I die so sad, yet feel so happy. When I stare at my sisters crying at my tragedy. My heart breaks, my mind stops, my soul aches, and my stomach drops. The life I live, never mattered… no one matters. If you truly think about it we’re just a big rock in a supposed “space” so anything is truly possible. Anything meaning everything. I’ll die and die again until someone finally realizes that you can’t save a broken angel. The bell cracked and the wings fell, and so did my hope. Although I love my mom for everything she’s done and been, if I truly want to end this suffering. There most likely is only one way…

Goodbye…I can’t truly kill my self, but…

I give up,

I’m no longer trying.

Your on your own.

I’m so sorry.