A little girl once told me that people with scars on their wrists are angels that wants to fly back home. I asked her what home was and she said "heaven".
I asked her how she knew that and she said "because my mum had the same scars as you and she is now home again" while looking up in the sky smiling.
~my own~
YOU ARE READING
~Fucked up world~
Poesía"The paper and pen was there for me when no one else was.." Here I'll write my own and others poems about depression. I will be writing on both English and Swedish. I don't want people to hurt them selves, I just want to write everything down. Pleas...
