The un-heard screams of the little failure

I dont know what genre this should be. its about me, but its no ordanary diary. its more a horror story, my horror story, my life.

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8. Still breathing!

I sit here, smile on my face. As my life falls apart, it gets stronger. I am losing my family, but I'm gonna be better. No drugs, no drinking. never getting violent and swinging at my child. never letting him feel so lost he would choose the cold streets over his bed. Never letting him feel so alone that the sweet release of crosses his mind. he will be loved and supported like i never was. its too late for me to be a child and have a mother. i grew up too fast. became independent too fast. But still, my broken shattered soul found love. my sweet honey lipped Liberty, the sweetest words to have ever graced my ears. she makes it better. she makes me hope. I love her.

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