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the real me?
when you look at me, what do you see? the shell of the person that used to be? i'm leaving now slowly dieing, waisting away to nothing. For every person that has left me another pieces of me dies. you look at this shell and think you know me. well you don't, cause the real me is gone. dead to the world, because of all the ones i have lost. you have never known the real me, because for every person i have lost, another peice of me went with them forever. to live in a place we can not see, or touch, but must feel with our hearts. but i hve no heart, i have no soul. i feel nothing but pain and depression. every day i think of a reason not to leave, to run away, or even die.
