I dispise the sound of my own breathing.
Not because I breathe funny,
Like Darth Vader or something.
But because of the fact
That I'm breathing,
That I'm still living.
I don't want to live,
Not this life.
My mind doesn't want this.
But my body still continues to live for me.
Breathing for me.
I'm in a battle between my mind and my body.
And to be honest,
I'm not sure which will win.
I'm told that
Depression
Is the inability to construct a future.
I haven't been able to see myself finishing high school.
YOU ARE READING
Poems By A Teen
PoesíaThese are the thoughts that wake me in the middle of the night. They have sat in my notes for years and now I want to share them.
