Depression sucks.
It makes me want to kill myself.
It makes me hate.
It makes me regret.
It makes me doubt.
It makes me think... overthink.
It makes me question everything.
I want a hug.
I want comfort.
I want to shout.
I want to cry.
I want to... get out.
I dont want this.
I hate my words.
Lets just hope that
I'll get out of these thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
Words for Souls
ПоэзияThese pieces are based on the stokes of my own hands, derived from my heart's own feelings and produced by my own mind. Emotions are like the gushing river, let it flow, let it free and let people see its blue waves, feel its coldness.
