Tears dry on their own

I don't think anyone knows me. I don't think anyone truly understands
me.
On Monday, I had to fight the demons that were telling me that my life
was worthless and that no one would miss me when I'm gone. I'm so tired.
I'm tired of fighting and scrapping and begging for everything I get.
I'm tired of competing for everything. I'm tired of feeling like I'm
almost at the finish line when they shut down the race. I'm tired of
feelin like nothing is tangible...I'm tired of feeling like dust.
And so...when the voices in my head....the conscious voice...the voice
that is ur own.....kept telling me no one would miss me....no one cares
about me....I didn't think of Afroman...or BestFriend or BestGayFriend,
or Twin......I thought of no one but myself. I would miss me I guess.
And now, as I sit on my bed....there is no one I can call that would
make me feel better. There is no friend that can wipe away my tears.
Just me n the silent still room....the sound of my fishtank
whirring....and the pitter patter of my fingertips on the keyboard. Its
just me.