• Is this all there is?
    Is this life?
    Am I missing something from this?
    No, there is nothing to miss.
    This life isn't for me.

    I slit my wrists every day. I pop pills every hour. I get so drunk I get lost, in my own home. This is the life of me. This is the life. It's just another day in paradise! Not really. When things take a turn for the worst, huddle in the corner and cry. I hold my knife in one hand, gripping it so tight my knuckles might fall off. My other hand is holding someone else's, that is, until that day. Now I hold the hand of my brother every night when I huddle in the corner, drunk, with my knife, crying my eyes out. When this life takes a turn for the better, I can't celebrate with friends. I can't be happy, not with a life like this. People die in this life, mostly people I know. This life has taken me places I have never wanted to be. It's taken me to my aunt and uncle's house, through a divorce, through 7 deaths and now to Virginia.

    This is life of an emotional nobody.
    This is it.