Can I stand close to death?

You won't like to know what I think,

You won't like to know what's inside,

You won't like to know the stories behind the scars, 

You won't like to know what I wish on the shooting stars.

Brutally and slowly, the sadness and emptiness is consuming me,

I'm so good at hiding it that no one can see.

People love you only if you're pretty or dying;

I know I can never ever be pretty.

Can I stand close to death?

And have my share of love and care?

"It's hard when.."

It is hard when you know something's wrong,

But you can't fix it.

It's hard when you want to speak,

But you can't find the words.

It's hard when you want to be happy,

But you're pulled back into the emptiness.

It's hard when you're smiling,

Just so that people don't see anything wrong with you.

It's hard when you're trying to write down what you feel,

But when you read it back, it doesn't make any sense.

It's hard when you want to stay,

But you don't want to exist.

It's hard when you try to reach for help

But there's no one out there.

Past.

I walk with my past.

It's always there behind my back,

Or by my side.

Always there looking for a chance;

A Chance to pull me back,

And trap me in the blinding memories of bad days.