To the voices in my head,
That somehow never go away...
Everything blurry
The fog is real bad...
How dreadful is the feeling of not being needed?
It is nowhere near as bad as the feeling of not...
Although you chose to leave my house
With your belongings too...
What does bile taste like?
As I sit, sirens blaring...
Butterflies sway around wreaths and figures
of ladies settling in a background...
Where are you sweet girl...
How can I tell you that the coldness
of your body on your last day on...
Trying to get rid of my depression
Fight my anxiety...
Bridges from reality to my mind
have been crashing...
When I return by thought to youthful days;
I sprightly swing upon those swings again...
Trying to grip onto that last hope
with a signal that has been lost within...