Quiet...
Stay quiet my dear...
Your stomach may growl...
Your thoughts may soon scream...
Though the pain you will feel...
Will be your last...
The wings of freedom are upon you...
Your blood is shed for the last time...
Smile my child...
You are not alone anymore...
The dark void shall lull you into a quiet, cold slumber...
This is freedom...
In every form of self hatred
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of the Disturbed
PoetryTeenage Anxiety... Teenage Depression... But what happens when its a male... What happens he can't admit it... Because of his gender... The worst thing of it all... He's diagnosed with Schizoeffective disorder... The feelings are just...
