She is crying
She is dying
She is barley fighting
She is hopeless
Her thoughts telling her she's worthless
She is ready to give up
She has thoughts running around
Honestly she isn't doing to well
She is so weak she almost fell
One to many pills
Down hill here we go
Guess what?
She is me
YOU ARE READING
ғυcĸ тнe ѕyѕтeм ®
PoetryThe depression is winning and guess what lovely it's going to kill me