The only thing that kept me alive all those days were bottles of pills and sharp blades.
Alcohol and glass were my best friends some nights.
Numbness was my very best friend. If it wasn't for that I wouldn't be here.
Even though they were slowly killing me.
I never noticed because they replaced those friends who never cared.
So what was the difference if both sets of friends didn't care about me.
YOU ARE READING
Terrible poems I wrote when I was 16
PoetryDive into my depressed 16 year old mind by reading these terrible poems. What was I thinking at such a young age? Who knows to be honest.
