Bad Days


Everyday is a lot like halloween. I prepare myself for everyday covering up in pretty makeup and happy masks to hide my shame. I’m sick of it and that’s why I’m here, I refuse to keep this mask on any longer. 

I am not happy. I am not ok. 

I love my little family and I know he cares but does he REALLY wanna know? Does he want to know that in my head I see images of my death flying through. That everytime I’m on a cliff or a roof or even in a car I have this urge to jump. 

I don’t know why I feel this way, I don’t really understand so how could anyone else? 

 The only thing keeping me here is knowing how selfish it would be for me to leave.