Be it Family, or Friends, or the Fine People of Poal.
They all express a certain concern about my mental well-being.
And I appreciate that.
They mean well.
They Truly do.
But they can't understand.
And every single time I to explain it to them,
They misunderstand.
It is almost like every single moment I have spent in this existence attempting to write poetry has been practice for telling them what they need to hear.
And I have not gone far enough.
I have failed, over and over and over again.
I tell them something, and they think I am going to kill myself, when that is the least of my intentions.
When I write, or speak, the goal is the opposite.
I need to make these words Perfect.
I need you to kill yourself.
Be it Family, or Friends, or the Fine People of Poal.
They all express a certain concern about my mental well-being.
And I appreciate that.
They mean well.
They Truly do.
But they can't understand.
And every single time I to explain it to them,
They misunderstand.
It is almost like every single moment I have spent in this existence attempting to write poetry has been practice for telling them what they need to hear.
And I have not gone far enough.
I have failed, over and over and over again.
I tell them something, and they think I am going to kill myself, when that is the least of my intentions.
When I write, or speak, the goal is the opposite.
I need to make these words Perfect.
I need you to kill yourself.
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