They cut their skin and cry themselves to sleep.
Their demons yelling to end it all.
Not wanting to wake up to another day.
With no desire to breathe another breath.
YOU ARE READING
crossing bridges // poetry
Poetryreally short, random, grammatically incorrect, shit I've put together called poems. **TRIGGER WARNING** #21 in #freementalillness (11/29/18) #42 in #mentalproblems (11/18/18) #670 in #mental (11/22/18) #907 in #depressing (11/24/18)
poem 2.8
They cut their skin and cry themselves to sleep.
Their demons yelling to end it all.
Not wanting to wake up to another day.
With no desire to breathe another breath.
