Fondue

Glimmer

Mr puzzles! *sigh* one day they'll remember that name without a nametag.

They only care when ur dead.
When you take ur own 
Bullet threw your head.
When no one can 
Comfort you.
When no
One can
Stop
You.
When 
Your to
Far gone.
When ur done
Singing songs. Cuz
You were sick of life.
Not everyone wants to
Live and strive. You shouldn't
Try to stop them. It only causes
More suffering. The amount
Of suffering people feel
From you leaving, is 
Less then how much
They will feel in a 
Lifetime.
Abú$ed,
Gone.
Not
Here...

If you buy a game pass but it barely helps your progress, would you want a refund or would you still use it? Life might be their first and last life. 

Why
Is 
Everyone
So
Fucking
Worried?
I'm
Not
That
Great.

We're worried about you because you're a friend... if you ever ACTUALLY end it, I will cry. HARD.

I was a good person at one point, remember this.
I stopped when my dad tried to shoot me.
I knew no one noticed my abrasions 
In my leg or arm. Its fine, felt more
Then it was. Maybe 7 or 5 slices.
To long ago. Anyways.
Do you have abú$¡ve parents Y/N?

Por favor no me dejes sola, odio cuando mientes, cuando me dices cosas, ¡¡¡POR FAVOR NO DIGAS QUE QUIERES MORIRTE!!!! (no I didn't use translate I'm fluent)

good for you, bc I can't read what you just said and ima translate it just to see what it says... :)

What do you think of me? Put it in words/images this time, no hearts. Be brutally honest, idc, love me, Like me, hate me, just tell me.

THIS will be my pfp when I'm having a mental
 Breakdown

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=a2R45LuUB_0
.
.
.
.
There is always sun under the clouds...but there are still people dumb enough to think the sun is UNDER the clouds...

Another poem :D 
In that moment we were arguing, 
In that joke my my brother was glowing.
When you hit me I felt different,
My brother, (with glee) told my parent.
When I said,
"I don't care ..." 
You being nice is rarer then rare. 
When I left, when I leaved.
When i slept, I felt relieved.
Now I can focy,
On the next day.
I'd rather go back to school,
Where I try to change my feelings like clay.
There, my feelings still don't matter,
But everything is served on a golden platter.
There, I still feel sappy.
But at least valentines I am happy.
The point is, at school, no one is perfect.

Those colorful, mismatched eyes fit the ending perfectly—none of us is perfect, and your poem feels honest about finding relief at school. Here’s a warm bowl of encouragement for you. :)

There were more lines but they wouldn't fit.

Fondue

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