A Constant Poets Thoughts

my path

I walk this path that's only my own
The only road my feet's ever known
And the only light that has ever shown
Is the one from my heart but it's grown cold

I live this life like I'm fine
Like suicide isn't on my mind
clearly I'm dying
But I seem to be defined
By the words that rhyme
But the truth is they're not even mine

The come from the darkest parts of me
The parts that hide from reality
The parts that I'm even afraid to see
Bc they're the scariest parts of me

Sometimes I like to use a pen
It draws not on paper but on skin
And draws lines both thick and thin
And sometimes it's my only friend

It makes me feel what is real
Like I still have control over the steering wheel

And it draws not in black but red instead
And it allows you to know your alive not dead
No matter what your heart or head said

And the scars left behind
Remind me of the times
I fought this war blind
The war inside
The one that makes me not fine
The one that stands all tests of time

With my words I'll make one last confession
And that's the war inside is also called depression