My hands are twitching...
Red liquid plastered onto the paper...
I turned towards the body...
I write a small note with the red ink, hoping you see it when you wake up, and find me covered with the sweet red liquid...
That tastes like berries...
Smells like my old home...
Will you get mad that I didn't wait for you?
Sorry, but blood feels great outside my body.
YOU ARE READING
-Thoughts of a Depressed Teen- (How Abnormal)
PoesíaI don't talk to anyone, journals are boring, so here I am, expressing my thoughts and feelings to strangers to help me cope with anxiety, depression and my insecurities over how amazing my girlfriend is. Join in on the fun by reading and sighing w...
