I don't get it.

Why do all my 'friends' hate me?

Why do my parents not give a flying fuck if I'm okay?

Why my brothers are so happy and fine, when I got left with the fucked up depressed genes?

Why am I fat?

Why am I too loud?

Why did this illness choose me?

Why don't I have a boyfriend?

Why did I ever make the fucking stupid decision to cut into my skin?

Why can't I stop the craving of a blade?

Why am I so god damn addicted to a tiny piece of metal?

Why do I still have the urge to cut after 3 god damn months?

Why do I try and act funny to make people like me when they won't like me anyway?

Why have I had the same god damn crush for 3 years and he barely has conversations with me?

Why have I liked this silly boy for so long when we stopped talking everyday 2 years ago?

Why did I let my mother carve away at my confidence for so long?

Why can't I fucking die already?

Why couldn't I kill myself the first time I tried?

Why couldn't I kill myself the second time?

Why am I stopping myself from killing myself right now?

fucking why?