Words. Where are the words. Gone, lost, missing to all, forgotten. The words.
The words I can use. The words that are my aid. Missing. Gone. Forgotten.
Thought upon thought, barren of any word I can bring to sound.
Words break and drift, letters tail spinning into the depths of my mind.
The depths of my mind, too deep to even dare to explore.
The back of my mind holding the thoughts: "Kill yourself" and "No one loves you", that's where my broken words dwell.
These broken words I need to say how I feel, but they abandon me and leave me more than just speechless, they leave me broken along with them.
YOU ARE READING
My Tragedies
PoesíaThis is a collection of poems when I've been my most depressed and low. Trigger warning. If you relate to any of these, please reach out. It's never too late.
