October 26, 2015 (Continued)
Nails bitten short and scraped elbows match my state of mind
I'm decayyyyyyyyyyyyyying
Fuck morning breath, its mourning breath. The stench is coming from my brain (I'm in pain, you know)
How could anyone romanticize this feeling. I'm rotting!
God damn it, I'm never going to get my shit together. The cycle never ends.
Just dry swallow four pills to help the pain and rock you to sleep, it helps for me.
Fuck!
Haunting like a ghost, I swear. At least I can leave the house sometimes.
It's bad, shit's bad right now.
YOU ARE READING
Circles
PoetryTales of friendships gone stale and words from a teenager with borderline personality disorder.
