I can't even begin to count the times
depression has almost dragged me under
with it's soot-stained hands
they tell me I am strong
that I can part my seas
with blood-stained hands
some days I believe them
some days I just throw up my hands
and submerge myself
in the sinking
YOU ARE READING
To Be Determined
PoetryBook 4 of seemingly endless poetry (or should I say possibilities?) Some poems are real life, some are not. Think before you assume.
