This says the end of my life is the end of my strife. In front of the toilet hands and knees trying to breathe in between the dry heaves. Someone help I’m hurting, but they can’t help. I yelp and yelp and yelp but still, no help. Wondering what I am doing wrong, but can’t find out. Mind all about trying to wonder why, why, why.I know you hear this over and over, complaints. Complaints about their life, or struggle, but mine, my struggle is really there. I try to cover it up by laughing, but I am really dying. Not really but inside my soul sometimes I fell so dull.Crumpled thoughts going threw my mind. I just want it all to be good. But it’s NOT all good. The thoughts are going three my head like arrows. Up, down, side to side all over This is how I feel not a lie, the truth.These and feelings are nevermore.