I wish I were dead. But not really dead, just unfeeling. Unfeeling of pain, unfeeling of love, unfeeling of all of the above. But I resist everday and stay alive. Hoping and praying I'll stop feeling dead inside.
I'm tryna fight my depression but DAMNNN DEPRESSION GOT HANDS
Her blue hair played the blues upon my heartstrings- a song so beautiful she entranced the moon above. Together, we danced beneath the starry night wondering when her song could cure our blues.
some say she was born with a broken heart, unmendable by word or deed, and now armed with a quiver full of witticisms and deft vertical palm, friends, lovers, the world, all held at bay, lest they discover her sorrow