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Calcutta, India

once upon a time i thought life was good it was actually great but then i took a closer look. when i found out that i was not loved which was not a suprise i took the blade to my arm and shoved. it helped me think do i love my mother? do i love my father? no because my heart is as weak as a feather. why should i try to do the right thing when all i want to do is turn the radio up so loud that my ears ring? i dont think that i know how to laugh but i wont try now because i feel like turnig to ash. will death be a relief? will life get better? theres only one way to find out its now or never.