A loud cry with quiet eyes does no justice for the soul in need.
Evil cancers the spirit of the weak
Demons in defeat combat with the might of ten thousand men.
Our victory is within the hour.
This poem describes in vivid detail my battle with depression and suicide but firmly reassures you I won the battle. And for anyone who can understand that place.
It’s always darkest before dawn. You will prevail
three a.m tears,
the way thunder claps,
neon lights in crowded clubs,
sharp tequila and acidic limes.
clasps hands and sweaty palms,
tongue kisses from strangers,
clouds hovering a crescent moon.
i am the best you never had,
thorns from roses,
slow R&B from the 90s.
i am here,
and i refuse to not exist.
just some prose for ya filthy animals <3 <3 <3
— The End —