Just because someone else has it harder than you, doesn't mean you can't have any feelings at all.
Sometimes, I hate myself. For all the things I did. For all the things I didn't do. For all the things I said. For all the things I kept inside. For all the wishful thinkings. For all the thoughts I put aside. For all the things I put people through. For all the nice things I didn't do. Maybe a basket case. A liability. Maybe too melancholic for anyone to hold.
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