"I can't," she said, through her tears,
She was rocking back and forth, shivering with fear.
"I can't," she said louder, reliving the times,
When all her dreams weren't wasted crimes.
She let out a scream, unable to stop,
All she wanted was to fall, to drop.
The teardrops staining her pillow looked the same,
As the blood staining the floor. Who was to blame?
"I can't," she repeated, silent and still,
Her heart was screaming, her mind had gone shrill.
The taunting, the labels, the names she was called,
When they found her body, they wouldn't be appalled.
She cried out in angst, but there was no one to hear,
It was too late for anyone to wipe away her tears.
They'd offer their condolences, they'd bring her flowers,
They'd act oblivious, and in empathy they would shower.
But in the last moments of her life,
The only one to comfort her was her knife.
~Via
• • •
Depression is living in a body that fights to survive, with a mind that tries to die.
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Ebony
Poésie❝Ebony and Ivory live together in perfect harmony.❞ Happy endings only come after a plethora of ups and downs. Imagine an elevator that only went up... What would be the point? Much like elevators, we need to go up and explore the wonders of life, b...
