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I lie on the floor,

Waiting for my eyes to open,

But they don't open, they stay shut.

I always think to myself, "wouldn't it be better if I was dead?"

But this time, fear sets in.

This time, I want to open my eyes, 

I want to breathe.

It's hard being in my body, 

I have over the top reactions, 

To things that appear "normal", or are "no big deal". 

But to me, everything's a big deal. 

My very existence is a big deal, 

But I don't care for myself, 

And I secretly think half my heart turned to stone.

I try so hard to appear as someone who is tough, but inside everyone knows I'm a crier.

If you don't believe me, that's your choice.

I say, "I can only control myself, I can not control anyone else."

And, I know, if they continue to be mean, and rude, 

All I could say, is "at least it wasn't my fault, they have no one to blame, but themselves."