"Cant get the stink off, it's been hanging round for days,"

You were losing your mind. The thought threatened to overwhelming your whole being. And soon, you knew you wouldn't be able to handle it anymore and snap.

"It's like a comet, shot at you but not your friends,"

You had nobody to talk to about it, since nobody you knew seemed to be having the same issue. When you would bring it up? Ignored. They did care, right? They just didn't..know how to handle it..?

"You do it to yourself,"

Without realizing it, you were the one causing all of your anguish. None of the problems that you had were really yours. You had picked everybody's load onto your back, and it backfired. You broke yourself.

"You do it to yourself, you stupid kid!"

That's all that you would hear from your parents. They didn't know shit. They were abusive pieces of shit, and never actually cared. You ended up sitting in your room, going through a photobook. Kurt, your best friend, who STILL didn't know you were gone, gave to you for your thirteenth birthday. You would never show at school again. Not if you had a choice.