Stuck in depression.
That's what they say.
But it's not depression.
It's the thoughts I deal with everyday.
I am not immune.
To hurt and pain.
I wish I was.
No more fear, no more rain.
In my soul,
Where was my purity?
Where was my childhood,
Where was my safety?
I could say save me,
But there is too much to save.
Too strong for me,
The sadness is a rave.
When is there not a negative?
An inappropriate thought?
A confusing thought?
An abusing thought?
Phycological pain.
They say is common.
But I have multiple in one stain.
Anxiety.
Controlling.
OCD.
ADHD.
PTSD.
Depression.
Confusi­on with inapropriate darkness is the makeup of my mind
Please help me.
Is what I hope to say.
But I don't use hope.
Because this I cannot receive today.
Or any other place in my life of which I lay.
I hate trying.
I gave up on crying.
Look up to the Willow, is it spying?
Mentally insane,
Believing in things that only cause pain.
I am insightful, but not mature enough to follow the right lane.
So why mind?
Why can't you find
Kindess to my own soul.
All I can take is a toll.
So I am still stuck.
In a random, just like this poem.
That might hit you like a truck.