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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Dark · #2076283
A free form poem about depression
How nice it would be
Not to be here.
My head slams at the wall,
A train wreck;

Let battle commence.

I am a dead girl riding,
The air like treacle.
I am perilously
On the edge
Of the glass sheet
Cracked beneath my feet;

It is not safe.

If only
I could wash the hate
From my skin.
It spreads like a cancer.
It suffocates me,
The sick dread,

The noise,
The endless trauma.
Like a wounded animal
I fall
Once more.

I screamed my way in to the world
For this,

But I'll depart
Without a sound.

(27 lines)
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2076283-Dead-Girl-Riding