Yeah. I know, but you don't understand how many people have pulled shit like that with me. I've had too many scares. Too many close calls. Even with you. It's terrifying. Traumatizing. And I can't just sit back while I see you saying stuff like that. I'll always be here. Always trying to support, lend a helping hand. Anything. I just can't lose anymore people to themselves. Especially not the special ones like you. If you're feeling up to it, just give me a call later. For me please. It doesn't have to be hours long. Just something for me to really know that you're okay. I should probably stop crying on my Nana's bathroom floor now.
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.
