And then,
It creeps back in.
That empty,
Malicious,
Feeling of overwhelming sadness.
Never knowing how to control it,
It gets released through series of infliction
On one's self.
Always feeling so alone,
Crying every night
To be rewarded with a ruthless headache
Seems to always be the anwser.
So,
Giving up.
Losing motivation.
The only things seemingly
Possible.
The only benevolence:
An icy chill feeling-
Numb.
YOU ARE READING
Telling's from the heart
PoetrySo here are a collection of poems inspired by stories whispered or stories told. Here are to those going through tough times and to get better. Here are to those that are at their peak and to keep up their good work. ***PLEASE IGNORE THE LETTERS THA...
