empty as i ever was
even when i was
happy
depression is a hell of a drug
blank paper
blank stares
morning resets the cycle of
tomorrow is another day
folding into myself
i cannot help but feel
betrayed by myself
but i keep folding
until i resemble something
hopefully
something with wings
so i can fly
if not
i have matches
©2024—JDCIV
Published on July 17, 2024 16:29