Sometimes I am so drained and deprived of life, I can't even find inspiration to write, to pick up the basic yellow Ticonderoga pencil in front of me and put my words on to paper because the damn voices in my head are so loud and terrible that I have no reason to write,
I have no reason to express these feeling because something inside of me is telling me I need to quit and this isn't going to work out but there's an even tinier thing in me even more minuscule say thing that " all of this is worth it so god dammit pick up that basic yellow Ticonderoga pencil because your ideas and feelings are damn well worth that paper and you aren't alone in any of this."
~E.M.C
YOU ARE READING
Hurt Beyond Repair.
PoetryHurt and frightened and no where to turn except for my journal. Curse words being streamed at me and you would have thought I had a father for a sailor. ~E.M.C Many poems focusing on the subject of Mental Illness, that many suffer with and the su...
