Yesterday's Thoughts:
I'm spiraling again. The darkness is starting to feel warm and whole and I think that I could finally have a home. What the hell? Someone let me out of this damn prison cell, these thoughts are starting to grow and before you even know I feel as though they're right. Even when I start to write it just doesn't feel right, it feels like it's left. Oh wait, oh shit. That wasn't what I was trying to say, this is starting to not feel like my brain. The words aren't making any sense and I've grown quite tense. Don't fret dear, I'm still here. It's just getting harder to breath under all of this sadness and the crushing weight of the madness.
YOU ARE READING
Depression Is My Kryptonite
PoetryA jumble of extremely depressing poems written by me. And ramblings that feature mood swings every other second. Oh well.
