I lie in my bedroom and stare at the ceiling, it's a reminder that I am a fool.
I sit in my brain among friends in school, the feeling of loneliness consuming me.
I am a fool who does not love itself but tries it's best to love others too.
My friends and family the suns and planets of my world while I am the black hole that destroys and consumes.
I wish I could make me love myself so I could help, I know they worry and I'm aware they care, but they must forgive my selfish mind that is only aware of what the burden a husk of a body I would be to them if my soul disappears.
I lay in my room my ceiling is blurry from tears as I cry while making no sound.