Broken parts

Some days are better then others, and then there are these day. These days that you can barely function, you have no idea how you got from point A to point B. The days you wonder why you are even alive, days you feel every single bad choice you made. Things you could of done better, but were just too naive to do so. The day you beat yourself up for every imperfect thing you have ever done. But the catch is that no one but you sees it, because you just hide behind a fake facade of happiness that is surrounded you, when deep down you're screaming and scared of what you are capable of doing when you are alone again. But that's all you want to be at that moment. Alone.