Did their updates cease when their minds gave them no peace.
Did the positive become like shadows to the negative haters, and those who hated became their annihilators.
Their relatability was more than you knew as your thoughts strangled you theirs also grew
But while you had their expression their expression left them in a depression
You wondered where they went
Tortured Artists is such a cliche, but it is also often the truth. A revised version of a previous poem that was messed up and inconsistently done. Shoddy writing on my part then.