I think I’m a bad person.
No, let me rephrase that,
my MIND is a bad person.
I try to be better then them.
But they’re mean.
They want to keep someone up when they need to get up early tomorrow
because they felt unsafe with me.
how do I make them feel unsafe? 
They’re the one that wants to tell everyone I’m supposed to be dead.
They’re the one that tells people all this cringey stuff about me.
like the fact I live 2 lives,
one with my imaginary friends,
at the ripe age of 16.
how embarressing.
how cruel.

I’m the one who offers to let them sleep.
I’m the one that knows we’re being dramatic.
I’m the one that knows everyone is faking it.
I’m the one who tells them they’re just looking for attention.
I’m the one keeping us alive, right?

huh?
It’s ok to look a little attention seeking for help?
fuck no.
mental hospital patients are crazy.
I can’t be crazy.
otherwise I’m doomed.

It sucks when I see how much 
I’ve become like my mother.

I’ve spent years hating my brain.
Why stop now?

I promise I’ll do better.
I’m terribly sorry.