Sometimes I write so you’ll be proud of me

Sometimes I hold my breath wondering if I could hold it till I died

Sometimes I look at the man in the mirror and really do smile

Sometimes sex feels good

Sometimes it’s just needed

Sometimes it makes me feel guilty of ashamed

Sometimes my friends and family have their deaths played out in my head

Sometimes I do it so I am more ready when they do go

Sometimes I think I do it to punish myself

Sometimes I’ll call you back and say I love you once more, just in case that’s the last thing I get to say

Sometimes I feel that I write really well, this is not one of those times

Sometimes my day is only filled with shadows, like I’m scared of the sun or something

Sometimes I feel so wrong

Sometimes I feel so right

Sometimes I feel love is a sham

Sometimes I’d rather live in fantasy

Sometimes I should kill myself, I think, but then evolve and face the impossible situation

Sometimes my nightmares don’t scare me

Sometimes I’d rather be dreaming, even if they were all nightmares

Sometimes I wonder if you’ll mean what you say in five years or if things got impossibly hard

Sometimes I wonder how much I’ll die when my brother does

Sometimes I get afraid that the things I invest so much of my time, talent, and treasures into won’t bloom

Sometimes I make myself depressed

Sometimes I just get depressed

Sometimes I feel I deserve evil

Sometimes I can feel myself turning dark

Sometimes I’ll remind myself who I really am though


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