Nameless, touched
only by depression’s chill...
It is Saturday 3:30 a.m.
I think I have thrown up enough...
They never told up life would be hard, they always...
I thought I had
buried the remaining bitterness...
When you think about joyfulness I believe it’s...
I hold to proven fact I have a reflection...
No matter how fast I race nor high I sit
I cannot escape the guilt for being born...
I always thought that being around you would be...
it was supposed to be okay forever...
butterflies
made a tomb of...
Pink baby blues
I sit here with a tear...
These thoughts they fill my head.
Everyday is a nonstop collision thats continuously...
I listened to the sound of tears again,
as she entered the room and asked...
what do you do when you realize
you cant even ask for help...