No amount of books could fix a fucked up mind.
No amount of medicine could heal a broken soul.
You couldn’t mend something that has been broken beyond repair.

Trapped

How do you escape a world you’ve created?
where monsters were your own thoughts,
where pain is your own emotions,
and you’re constantly drowning with your frustrations…
drowning—drowning but you couldn’t die…

Your dreams and goals suffocate you,
tightening around your throat…
covering you mouth…
but you can breathe…
You can breathe–but you hope you couldn’t…

Quitter

“Sometimes it’s better to be called a quitter,

When you know that staying won’t make any difference…”