"dysphia" poems
Black holes are dark.
Cold. And endless.
They say once you fall in a black hole you don't come out.
Sitting where I am it's hard to go on
Almost like I am in that very dark endless cold hole.
Pain is gain they say.
But what if you don't feel pain anymore.
I live with dysphia.
{tbt}
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 5:13 AM UTC