Here is a old poem I found.
Words can not describe the feelings I feel, or the entire whole were love once dwelled. Pain would be better then this hollow, empty feeling. Death would be a blessing, but of course nowhere in sight. God only puts us in situations we can handle.
I feel nothing and can't hide behind any walls. Writing seems a waste, music helps but still I do not care. I just want to sleep the days away. Now that is depressing.
My old fore and frienemy, how I loathe you. Depression once consumed my days, then I conquered you and yet what was the point?
Still alone, and barely making the smiles show. Fraustration, anger, and horniness are the only urges I have. To fight and hurt someone else, so they can feel my pain. That isn't me, I won't let the dark place take over.
Meaningless sex that only last minutes is a slipperly-slope and I am riding it blindly. Stop you fool before you make a decision you can't take back.
I am losing everything and the test I studied and prepared for doesn't matter. I need a change, but what will suffice long enough to keep me ground.
Nothing comes to mind so maybe I better hope for a miracle. A blessing to bring my healthy, loving self back and take away this reckless imposture.
Is the words on paper enough to distract me? I highly doubt it. Sanity is a memory and darkness creeping up toe welcome a lost soul.
Damn, I was dark and disturbed. Still am, but must more balanced.
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