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Literature Text
It's scary.
Sickening;
To feel so hollow inside.
Like my heart ran away to find a more promising person to live in...
And I scream and cry out for her to come back. It hurts, and I'm scared.
I don't want to be alone.
But nothing helps...
And I'm left an empty, broken shell of a little girl who was once raised on grass stains and sunshine.
I wish I could find her. I wish she could save me.
But really...It's already over...
The cracks are there. They just need the push.
Sickening;
To feel so hollow inside.
Like my heart ran away to find a more promising person to live in...
And I scream and cry out for her to come back. It hurts, and I'm scared.
I don't want to be alone.
But nothing helps...
And I'm left an empty, broken shell of a little girl who was once raised on grass stains and sunshine.
I wish I could find her. I wish she could save me.
But really...It's already over...
The cracks are there. They just need the push.
I scribbled this little piece down as I was blatantly skipping another day of ceramics because of my anxiety.
I've been in the most depressed state of mind for a while now. Pretty stuck for now.
This is originally in the form of a comic, instead of a poem, and I'll post the drawn version eventually. But ever the queen of procrastination, that will take a lot of effort and a bout of un-laziness.
Edit: Here is the comic version [link]
I've been in the most depressed state of mind for a while now. Pretty stuck for now.
This is originally in the form of a comic, instead of a poem, and I'll post the drawn version eventually. But ever the queen of procrastination, that will take a lot of effort and a bout of un-laziness.
Edit: Here is the comic version [link]
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Moving really 