NOT bipolar

Well, I'm NOT Bipolar that's for sure

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True friends stab you in the front

The battle is real. And maybe she won. Or maybe the pills did. I dont know. But at least I could control my rage. Oh the names and words I want to use. To just start pointing my finger to their faces and just yell MOTHERFUCKER YOU FUCKING PSYCHO.  What a fake bitch. Acting like they care and listen and the moment when it all matters, they fucking run and make some stupid fucking excuses. Yes, stupid excuses. What a bunch of spineless little rodents.  No, no, they dont deserve my hands wrapped around their neck. Wont even touch them with my toe. I'd love to see the lights slowly fade from their beady eyes but selfish cowards deserves their own worst nightmares.  Go on. Keep making up your own dream world. And if you choose that to be your reality, that's your own fucked up decision. And I fucking hope you're trapped in it Fucking selfish cunts.
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Fuck your feelings

 What about mine? WHY AM I ALWAYS BE THE ONE THAT HAS TO KEEP MY CALM? WHY AM I ALWAYS BE THE ONE THAT HAS TO CARE ABOUT OTHERS FEELING? WHY AM I ALWAYS BE THE ONE THAT HAS TO SUFFER IN SILENCE? WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM? FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU ALL AND YOUR FUCKING FEELINGS. HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO HEAL IF THIS KEEPS ON HAPPENING?? ITS JUST ONE SCAR AFTER ANOTHER   The irony of me stopping myself slicing my own hand because there is no more space to mark. Who would've thought that my heart has more space to rest my scars than my fucking skin. 
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Where is the line?

 Where is the line? I'm learning again like a toddler with a tricycle. So many things to juggle and calculate. Who am I suppose to spare, now? Me, her, Them, her, we, Him? You?   No one's watching but I feel like judgmental eyes following me around. This beast needs a beating, a leash, argh is this suppose to calm me down or arouse me even more?   Ah, the warmth of spilled blood. I miss it.    Look at the day, Noel. Lower your wall. It's okay. You've been on the edge of death several times and you came back. Let yourself feel even if it's the last good thing you'd know. Or because it's the last good thing you'd know.   What's the worst thing that could happen? A dark, cold, empty, nothingness? Yea, remember? You'd welcome it
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