You claim that you're okay but last time I checked you still had a bottle of pill hidden under your bed. You say you're fine but I once walked in on you trying to poison yourself with liquid lead. You say you aren't lonely but the only friend you open up to are the ones that live inside of your head. If you honestly think you are stable then explain to me why you still wish you were walking among the dead. I'd tell you I can relate but I feel that's not something you want to hear. If you can hear my voice, follow it, let me lead you out of here. Please let me help you in any way I can and I understand if you don't want me to, my dear. I know you are stressed, trust me please, I have stuff that can help, everyone else will just tell you to drink another beer. Please let me help, there's something wrong, it's all I ever want to do but no one else ever wants to help me or cares enough to. And you can try to hurt me or bring me down with you but let's be honest, I'd probably come down to hell with you.