And here I sit nodding off, but I can't go to sleep. The nightmares are too much for me. And it doesn't get better. Doesn't matter the reassurance I get from friends. I know he's dead. They tell me he is, but the dreams are always the same. He's alive, well, and he hates me.
Ya think I wouldn't dream this. I was Daddy's lil girl, and he loved me a lot, but the nightmares-
I can't tell anyone. I'm not like that. I bottle shit up until I'm ready to blow up. Which only causes me physical pain. I can't bug people though. My friends don't deserve someone so screwed up as a friend. I just ruin shit. I dun wanna do that. I can't. I'll just do my best to look like I'm fine. I just gotta work harder at it.
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