The incredible guilt,
I have for telling you
Deathscsweet seal
Is the hardest cross,
I've ever had to bear.
Incineratorin,
slowly in silence.
Burning like the Matches
only speak.
This course is speeding up my hour glass.
A little too fast for comfort.

When you've been sick for so long.
That it feels more normal than anything.
A high functioning, hot mess.
As my mind runs in circles, on repeat.
Like a cursed pendulum.
Tomorrow's dissapointments are none of today's business.

Depression is living in a snow globe.
Trapped within the glass like a prisoner.
Staring at the world before you.
As you brace for the storm to hit.

Waiting for the light
to shine through.
The cracks of broken glass
I've become accustomed to living in.

I'm not really sure how to feel Anymore.
Like screaming help in a room full of deaf people. This is starting to feel hopeless.

A white porcelain coffee cup
she gently raises up to her lips
with a satiated look on her face;
this gift, a much awaited moment
attained by satisfying her yen
not for choicest, gourmet food alone.

Those dark droopy eyes, suggest
a luxurious languor, she does cherish,
as long as the after tremors would last.

Slyly she looks at his swollen red lips
with a crafted guilt, it gives her yet
another high, sending ripples over
her *******, his eyes do a recce on this
then go up to her lips,finds his ardor
last hour had  made them crimson all over,
throwing his head backwards he smiles at her.