sometimes
the misery is too
much
and
I can't get up.
I cant move.
I cant breathe.
the weight is too much on my chest
my arms
my legs
my back
my head
my everything.
what's the point.
why am I here.
YOU ARE READING
Roses Are Dead
Poetryjust me writin' some stuff about the feels. Includes self-harm and other potentially triggering topics Will update when possible, which will not be every day. Sorry!
Weight
sometimes
the misery is too
much
and
I can't get up.
I cant move.
I cant breathe.
the weight is too much on my chest
my arms
my legs
my back
my head
my everything.
what's the point.
why am I here.
