TW- depression
it feels as if my brain has thousands of little workers hammering away at me like relentless soldiers without a solid aim. my head has too many sounds and too many thoughts and too many mashed up songs that I don't like the sound of and now I can't breathe because there's something sat on my chest like a goblin picking away at my heart and it's too much. I need it to stop because I can't last and what does last? nothing lasts and humanity and beauty and everything else is fleeting so maybe I am too.
YOU ARE READING
all i have now
Poetry[poetry] all i have now is this pen, and this paper. and all i can do, is write.
