My depression has never been blue skies and empty clouds, it's always been grey....grey.
Full of rainstorms that weep upon my broken desires.
if it's stops my soil dries and crumbles waiting for the next unfortunate stumble.
My petals cracked under pressure , bees don't fly to me like the other flowers, tall and full of colour.
I stand alone in this field of lovers nobody finds me quite as desirable as the others
only few have taken their pick but in the end I'm always left with a crack in my spirit.
— Sophie
