Spoken In Confidence

So readers.
Whoever you may be. It doesn't matter.
As long as I pretend that you don't exist.

Gloom overwhelms as usual.
Suicide has taken over all rational thoughts.

Lying on my side.
Wishing I had the brains to stop crying,
Then maybe my pillow wouldn't be so uncomfortably wet.

I am a woman. Technically.
More like some kid. Stuck somewhere in the middle.
(Anyone who starts humming to what's thats slut's name speares song and I will kick'em in the genitals)

I smoke.
I loath groupies and all people who shout annoying school cheers and those who actually orgasm while doing so.
I crave depressive music.
I like thinking about suicide and how it will hurt the people close to me.

I hardly have friends.
The only ones who stick around,
Are good people.

I'm often mistaken for being a bitch.
Which actually isn't so bad
Cus I don't have to explain myself