not a poem

twisting, turning thoughts have sickened me to the point of wishing for my own demise....my eyes barely open, but....it doesn't matter. why feel the need to see the things that cause you pain? just knowing they exist is depressing enough. i'm no longer sure if i'm living or just alive. i feel my pulse; i know that i'm breathing. everything has surrounded me and i feel there is no escape this time...so i'll fake a smile and force a laugh just so they won't see...no need to worry about me....it only hurts when i breathe....