Anxiety and Depression
So many cries for help Pounding on my skull But none of them escape For fear of seeming dull Apathy is settling in Desire slinks away Not so much as darkness As fuzzy dimming grey Like the bleakness of a sunrise In a foggy Monday morning. I think if would cut myself I wouldn't feel the blood come pouring But even just the thought of that Of harming ones own flesh Just makes me feel more petty like I'm becoming less