It was an average day; no exaggerated drops or jumps in the weather,and yet she was still cold.
She was dead as she saw it. She felt glum for an average.
When it came to her life she didn't see much purpose, her hands where tied. She was helplessly falling into a black pit.
She just wanted someone to catch her before she was too far gone.
One cut, Two cut, Three cut, Four. She cries for a while and then cuts some more.
She wonders how much time it will take until someone notices her pain. And if they will care enough to try and make a difference.
Was this all some dream or really reality? She didn't know yet, and she didn't care.
Hi cut, bye cut.
There's nothing left.
YOU ARE READING
The Poems of Depression
PoetryMy whole life has been a big ball of bullshit and depression, I've done stupid stuff to try to push through and then I met a man named Seth and he changed my life for the better. He taught me that drawing and writing is better than cutting and doing...
