haven't heard about my teen angst yet. So I wrote a poem. "Why are you living still?' he asked me "your useless and have no purpose." "no one likes you, no one ever did", she told me "why dont you get it over with already." These words keep ripping at my heart, keep going through my mind "why am i still living?" i asked "Theres no purpose and im no help to anyone" " no one likes me i already know that" ive already tried to get my life over with." The only thing to do left anymore is to cry, as the tears fell out of my eyes, rolled down my face and fell on my wrist. I thought those thoughts in my mind again and i cried out in pain as the tears of blood rolled down around my arm on to the floor. This pain i felt was not physical pain but mental pain, The tears of blood never stopped pouring. "Are you happy now?" i answered "i served my purpose right here and now." "who would like me now" i answered back "ive gotten it over with now" As i lay in the puddle of tears, tears ive bled, tears of pain, tears of torture, tears of fear, my tears of blood. Now i lay here in crimson red. Wasn't that cool? I know. I'm so scenexcore.