Another miserable day.
I spend it wasting away.
Waking up and doing the same shit.
It makes me just want to quit.
This is my attitude all the time.
I'm stuck in this pit, and I cannot climb.
I am too problematic for my own good.
I would help myself, I wish I could.
But my brain won't allow me to.
It plays with my head, if only you knew.
If only you knew how much I try.
I try to help myself, but all I do is cry.
Cry in my head, wishing I could do more.
But I'm problematic, and my thoughts are constantly at war.
YOU ARE READING
Stale Words
Poetry𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 is an ongoing book and collection of poems and sonnets made by me, inspired by my thoughts, dreams, and personal experiences. As someone who lives with depression and anxiety, a lot of my thoughts are bound to not be very pleas...
