Everyone has those moments,
Those moments where everything seems hopeless..
Well, sometimes it seems I'm stuck in one
I find something that makes me happy
I cling to it, I absorb it,
Only to have it ripped from me
It leaves wounds, giant gaping holes
They fill with disease; hate and sadness
Depression, stress, regret
They ooze from me, leaving me a broken mess
What's the point in finding more, when you know the same thing will happen again?