untitled

i need to write but nothing is coming out
i need to vent but don't really know how
i hate to say this, but maybe they were right
maybe i wasn't meant to be here at all
maybe that's why he's never going to call
maybe that's why i never feel 10 feet tall
maybe that's why i feel like a failure at life
maybe that's why i can't stop staring at that knife
i know i'm never going to use it
but i am so scared to lose it
i hate to cry, i hate to whine
i just wish i had someone to call mine
someone i could talk to, someone to confide in
someone to make me feel fine again
i know i will do fine on my own
but never do i wish to be alone