I might do things differently
if I thought anyone really cared,
but at the end of the day,
I'm alone.
And it's lonely.
So I cope
by self-destruction
until I'm numb.
And life goes on.
And no one cares
until they're supposed to.
YOU ARE READING
The Things We Don't Talk About
Poetry***Trigger Warning: Mental health, mental illness, eating disorders, suicidal ideation, self-harm*** A collection of poems delving into the dark side of the human experience. From high highs to low lows, emotion can be intense. And this collection s...
