She paces around the room
The fresh marks on her skin
Are crimson in the light
The needles of Time ***** her
Leaving bruises on her skin
She stares up at the ceiling
The whiskey glass half empty
The 'medicine' wasn't helping
She's broken,messed up,an outcast
But what you don't know
Is that annie is short for anxiety.
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 5:25 AM UTC
She paces around the room
The fresh marks on her skin
Are crimson in the light
The needles of Time ***** her
Leaving bruises on her skin
She stares up at the ceiling
The whiskey glass half empty
The 'medicine' wasn't helping
She's broken,messed up,an outcast
But what you don't know
Is that annie is short for anxiety.
In which an emotion decides to speak out for herself.
