I really think I'm too late to all of this
It's bad and all I do is yeah make it worse
I made things better maybe once every few weeks
Doesn't matter how hard I try or how much love I have or how devoted or how pretty or how sweet or how innocent or how talented or anything I decide to try to be
I'm none of it
I'm more useless than a grain of sand and more pathetic than a lost puppy
I'm nothing
Absolutely, utterly nothing
YOU ARE READING
For the Rainy Days
Non-FictionTrigger/Content Warnings: depression, self-harm, suicide, self-deprication, self-loathing, and plenty of others within this category. enter at your own risk.
