This is the last goodbye.
From places left to die.
this is everything I'm not
and this is why I got shot.
Right in the head.
No judgement at all. all I could say.
None of what's true.
Nothing to live for
Anymore.
Not that you were the reason.
just that now there doens't seem to be one.
how passimstic. I really don't like depression poems.
I don't want want to write something like "there's nothing
in this world.." everything is black.. bla bla bla. It's
pretty much shit.
it's not that tone I'm using in my head to write thiese
things. Just being honest.
oh, honest, honest. honesty. I wish I wouldn't have been so
honest towards myself. It really fucks me up from the
inside.