409968000 seconds seems like a lot of time.
Or 6832800 minutes.
113880 hours.
4745 days.
13 years.
That was all she had.
Walking, talking, breathing.
Because the pressure of being perfect was too great.
Because she was told once too many times that she wasn’t good enough.
Suicide if real.
Suicide is real, and we need to stop it.
Now.
People are unique, and we need to accept that.
Now.
Because if we don’t,
all we are left with are broken hearts.
I used to play with that girl.
We had sleepovers,
we went to writing workshops together.
Now all that is gone.
All that is gone,
because she tried to meet the standards
of society.
So now I raise my voice.
I raise my voice, because I care.
I cared about that girl.
Or 6832800 minutes.
113880 hours.
4745 days.
13 years.
That was all she had.
Walking, talking, breathing.
Because the pressure of being perfect was too great.
Because she was told once too many times that she wasn’t good enough.
Suicide if real.
Suicide is real, and we need to stop it.
Now.
People are unique, and we need to accept that.
Now.
Because if we don’t,
all we are left with are broken hearts.
I used to play with that girl.
We had sleepovers,
we went to writing workshops together.
Now all that is gone.
All that is gone,
because she tried to meet the standards
of society.
So now I raise my voice.
I raise my voice, because I care.
I cared about that girl.
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