All these tattoos on my body screaming seconds can't be wasted
The seconds that are wasted are the once's that could have saved me.
The seconds that you refused to look into.
Were the ones I was pulled into
You laughed when I cried for help
You laughed when I cut my wrists
The cries for help that you thought were cries for attention.
But in the end it doesn't even matter.
I was to far gone for your help anyways.
YOU ARE READING
A Fight With Depression
Short Story(Trigger Warnings) Do not read if you are bothered by reading very real everyday senarios such as suicide, self harm, and other things that tend to mend with having most mental illnesses. This book is a different book where every chapter is a short...
