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I wish to die,
but it’s too early.
I suppress my feelings by distractions
YouTube
I suppress my thoughts by distractions
Spotify
I can’t dare to feel anymore. I don’t dare to think. If I do, I’ll spiral - spiral out of control.
High functioning depression - you know you’re loved, but you don’t believe them. You know people would be sad if I died, but you know they would be better off.
No.
I’d be better off.
Dead.
Non existing.
Why can’t I feel loved. Why am I making everyone a priority, when myself is just an option to everyone else?
Why do I care so much about people, the same people who wouldn’t do the same.
I take care of people because it heals the part of me that needed someone to take care of me.
But I am not yet healed, for I am still broken. Still empty. Pouring the liquid of life in a cup that has no bottom.
I’m never full.
Never satisfied.
Never happy.
I wish to live,
but it’s too late.
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