A pen to a peice of paper,
a means to an end.
A continuous darkness,
a never ending pain.
A slow beating heart,
shallow breaths and pants,
humanity that slips away.
Depression.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry.
PoetryPoem all written by Paintingtheworldgray, they are older and some are newer. Don't read unless you like depressing poetry. The cover is not real blood, I made it with Fruit Punch Kool-Aid, so no worries yeah?
