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I lost myself a long time ago, now thinking about what I have and what I lost. Standing in a crowd, feeling all alone, I ponder why I was even born. I've lost the spark in my eyes; now they look so dry, maybe they've forgotten how to cry. I resemble the people I used to hate. Now, I don't know who is real and who is fake.Thinking about the mistake that i made if they were the blessings or a mistake .The kid in me wanted to fly but the adult in me wants to die.
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YOU ARE READING
WHEN AN OVERTHINKER THINKS
Non-FictionFor overthinkers and any person who can relate if they are depressed or anything it's for you
