Love is fake as fuck. People talk all this sweet shit, like they actually give a damn, but in the end, it’s just a game. You give your heart, and they just take it and toss it aside when they're done. It’s all fake as hell, a fucking lie wrapped in pretty words. You think it’s real, but nah, it’s just people using each other. You end up hurt, and they move on like nothing happened. Love? Yeah, it’s bullshit.

I fucking hate myself. Every goddamn part of me is a fucking disaster. I can't stand looking in the mirror anymore, because all I see is failure. I'm sick of pretending like I'm okay when I feel like absolute shit inside. Everything I do is a fucking joke. Every choice I make just makes it worse. I don't know who the hell I am anymore. Just a pathetic fucking mess, drowning in my own insecurities, my own bullshit. I hate how weak I am, how I can't even get my shit together, no matter how hard I try. It’s like I’m stuck in this fucking loop of self-loathing and I can’t escape it. I can’t stand the person I’ve become. I’ve tried, I’ve really tried, but it’s never enough. I’m just tired. Tired of existing, tired of feeling this goddamn worthless. I don’t even know why I keep going. What the fuck is the point

The world is heavy, pressing down,
Each step a weight, each breath a sound,
The shadows stretch, the colors drain,
As joy slips quietly through the pain.

A heart that once could feel the fire,
Now flickers weak, worn out, a liar.
What once was hope, now empty space,
A void that no one can replace.

I search for meaning, pull at air,
But all I find is deep despair.
The days are numb, the nights are long,
A song that's silent, once so strong.

The light fades out, the darkness calls,
As I stand broken, in these walls.
And though I try to make it through,
I wonder if I’m just passing through.