I'm sorry I haven't been updating lately. I've had s really rough three months to go along with n already fucked up year. I feel vial. Like I've done the most disgust thing ever and my body knows this. I can eat, sleep, and I've been shaking for no reason. I'm tired. I always feel drained. I need some time to clear my head everyone. Really I'm so sorry. I truly truly am. I'm sorry.

But I've got to get this off my chest. I need people to know what's been going on just in case, worse case scenario, I end up hurting myself.

Please listen to me. I'll never cry out for help again. I swear. So please...please just listen.

When I was younger, I use to frequently get nightmares. Who knows what caused them, they just seemed to always attack me. On those nights, I'd lie in bed and cry out. I'd cry and cry, until someone heard and came and rescued me. Now that i've gotten older, I realize, how foolish I was, depending on someone else to erase the pain. Now that I am older, pain isn't easily erased.

As a little girl, you could go back to sleep, wake up the next morning and forget everything that has happened to you. Things aren't easy to forget now. Even if you wanted it to be. Older now, if I was to cry out like my younger self did, no one would come because at this age you are expected to depend and deal with things yourself. Because in everyone's eyes a mature young lady is supposed to sit still, be quiet, and only seen.

However, we aren't seen as young ladies now, we're seen as objects.

We often take things out on each other, us as human beings. If we feel pain, we blame it on someone else. If you were angry, you took it out on someone else. If you were lonely, you'd throw away those who were really beside you. If only we could throw away scars the way we threw away emotions. The way we threw away people.

I was never able to ever truly throw away anything. Things were always taken from me. You found luck? Gone. Happiness? Gone. Love? Gone. Support? Gone. I'm always in a masquerade. I've mastered putting on a facade in front of people. Dressing nice, talking proper, laughing loud, smiling wide. These were all things I do everyday rinse and repeat, and I'm sick of it.

Blow after blow, things have been crashing down on me. I've been in a wave a misery. Sit here. Look nice. Stand straight. Head up. Chin high. Big smile. When does it ever stop!? When can you take enough? Are human beings made to break? Are our lives a games to toy with? What right should you have to take my heart, and rip it in shreds? You can't take my emotions. My rage. My heartache. Its there. Its always there. I feel. I'm real.

But we can't always express that. These words mean nothing if they aren't expressed. These words mean not a damn thing on shielded ears and turned eyes. So I can't expressing anything. Nothing I say is being heard. I've tried to be that little girl, sitting up in bed, crying for someone to take the pain away. I've tried to cling on to someone. Just one person. And then they leave. They're taken from me.

So I'm not sorry I'm not "effective enough" I'm not sorry if I've "betrayed" you. I'm not sorry " I keep doing the same things over and over again" even after you tell me not to. I'm not sorry "I left you hanging on your own. I'm not sorry I'm "not fast enough". I'm not sorry I don't want to have sex at this age. I'm not sorry if I focus on myself more than anyone else. I'm not sorry I keep making the same mistakes over and over again. Because damn it I tried to fix these mistakes. I fucking cried out. I was a little girl. I screamed. I hollered. I yelled. I kicked . I fought and I lost. I lost to this nightmare. While I'm the one who gets blamed, shunned, used, and mistreated everyone else gets to play the adorable little girl. Everyone is a victim, yet no one is the murder. No one admits to red stained hands.

I don't want help now. Don't offer. I don't need sympathy. Don't bother. I don't need prayer. Don't waste your time. I don't need encouragement. Don't try. Because when I asked for that shit no one took the time out to give it. So yeah I'm angry, but you know what? Worse of all I'm hurt. I'm tired, angry, and hurt. And it continues on making a year.

Is anyone happy now?

No you aren't. Because you've always been happy. You've always been fine. No one cared. And you still don't.

That's why I write, that's why I wrote this. That's why I can't trust not a damn soul. That's why i feel so broken, used, and disgusting. That's why I'm dead on the inside crying out. Because outside, outside this little girl is watching a war. A war where everyone loses.

And even after all that said, I still need help. Warmth. Love. And forgiveness.

I've given this one last try. So here we go...

Please help me.