Don't

I realize I can never tell people my problems. I don't like to talk about my problems. I can't talk about my problems. I just can't.

I wonder how the people who can't speak ever vent their anger. Do they choke on the words they can't speak or swallow them bitterly? Do they push it back to their throat and let their tears speak for itself.

I am very upset. And I don't know why. I am very upset. And I feel like I can never get out of it. People are horrible. Too horrible. They can't help but be a disappointment.

I am a disappointment. I can't help but be a disappointment.

It struck me how nothing in this world is ever mine. Whatever I had is given. I can link it back to the person every object belongs too. Nothing is mine. Is that really true? Is anything mine?

You know what they say about the place behind your eyes and before your tear ducts. I used to be there. But I'm not anymore.

Now I'm just a vessel of unhappiness. I reek of failure and self disappointment. I'm so upset. I'm really very upset.