small hints of my fucked up concious
small little tales of my depression
thoughts of using various ways to end myself
"I wonder what it'd feel to go out with a bang"
with such strong urges to pick up
that gun stored beside my dad's bed
and end the small bit of suffering i feel
and i force myself, pushing the thought out
each time im reminded of the ways i can do it
it gets harder every time to stop myself
today was no exception
i even dreamt it for a moment
my body wants it, involuntarily
and who am i to not give it what it wants?
just a small reason i keep the date in mind
Wednesday
Wednesday
wednesday
9 months
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 1 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife apparently wattpad limits the number of parts you can have, so I'm s...
