The taste on the lips is ever so sweet...
But the whole glass would be my last...
Every breathe we take we swallow a sip...
Until the day were we can no longer sip...
Everyone's glass is of different shapes and sizes...
But they all have the same goal in the end...
The sweet taste of death...
YOU ARE READING
Mental Illness Tales
SachbücherThis well book sorta thing, I will explain how it feels to have depression, anxiety, OCD, Aspergers, Split Personalities, Cut (Common term meaning when you use to cut your wrist/legs/stomach) and Bipolar, because I have had my share of some of the t...
