I'm done
.
.
.
My fucked up brain.
It just doesn't let me forget my never ending pain.
My thoughts are so fucked up.
Slit my wrist and just give up.
I'm tired of everything. Tired of nothing.
Fall on my bed at night.
Thinking about quitting this fight.
I'm done. I'm done with life.
YOU ARE READING
deep scars//
Poetry"poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." - robert frost
