attempted to write a poem/story, wrote this instead.
This is my way of telling you how you’ve created the broken man that lies before you.
I’m a shell.
I’m nothing.
I have no voice.
I have nowhere to run.
There is no trust for anyone.
I’m constantly let down.
No one turns out how I expect.
I’m empty. I’m alone. I’m angry.
I just want to belong. To feel like I belong.
Words mean nothing to me because words are broken.
I want to love, but I don’t know if I have it in me anymore.
I’m never happy anymore.
I’m always depressed or flat out angry.
I have nothing in life. Nothing to live for.
I have no goals anymore. No desire for anything.
Every dream I can remember is a nightmare.
I’m never comfortable. I’m almost always in some form of pain.
I’m too fucked up to date.
I’m too full of hate to love.
My name is Philip Kevin Jackson, I’m 22 years old, and I don’t deserve life.
jesus someone tell this kid he's fine
and to shut the fuck up















