AN OLD ROPE
I was made,
I was bought,
But quickly got misused,
As time skipped, I ripped,
Never to be useful,
thrown into the darkness of myself,
Never a use to anyone for a while,
Until they finally used me,
I was the rope holding down a balloon,
And they wanted to fly ,
So they untied that knot,
Thrown on the ground as they flew,
I was always there watching,
Rotting, thinning out,
On the ground,
An old rope,
ALONE
Hello! And welcome to my hell-hole we call a diary! But let's not call it a diary because that's weird, how about a "journal"? Yep! My journal! I am mostly going to write poetry, but sometimes I'll give you art and information about myself!
|ASHTON'S FUN FACT ABOUT HIMSELF FOR THE DAY|
Well, I have many disorders but mainly the ones I have are
Schizophrenia
Depression
Insomnia
Major (and I mean MAJOR) social anxiety (I can't leave my house anymore)
And Cotard's Delusion (also known as walking corpse syndrome)
If you have any questions just message me! I'll answer, I promise! Hope you all have a good night/day
YOU ARE READING
Untitled Story
PoetryHello! This is Ashton here! (Formerly known as Abby) and this is my diary. Lately I haven't been updating because I, well... I'll explain as you read! I will be posting poems, art, and my life as I go, hope you guys enjoy!