depression
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I only know pain; it’s what I’m used to
I used to experience a lot of weird things;things that hurt me, things that made me. I used to write a lot about it then. If I write about it now, some’ll think I’m depressed. I always question if I still am a bit. I wrote about those things then…
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When will it get old?
The more days that pass it’s me that ages. I stuff myself in holes of immaturity and self doubt, buying my way into the fancies of life. When will it get old? Maybe in due time—maybe never. I don’t mind the fits of sadness and despair—craving, desire, and moments of…
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Setting my life ablaze one day at a time
How dare I show my face here; how dare I show my face anywhere. Digging myself into a hole I may never get out of—voluntarily. My life has always been one of search and exploration; now it’s become one of craving and romanticism. I told my mom the other day…
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Some boys are heartbroken
I had a boy who made me feel bad once cry about another girl to me. I stared at him as he drowned in his thoughts while I felt nothing. Later I thought, damn, that bitch beat me to it. Some boys are heartbroken and you wouldn’t even know.
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Some days are easier than others
Yesterday, wasn’t one of them. It disappoints me how one small thing can send me so easily down an endless spiral— Spiraling into the evening, into the night, into my sleep, into the next day. Today will be better than any other day because there only is this day, here…