Don't Listen

June 12, 2017
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How can I help others
If I can't even help myself

Don't take my advice
I can never take my own

I preach and preach and preach
Self love
Writing
Whatever makes it feel comfort or even the slightest bit of joy

But when my time comes
I sulk in it

I let it consume me

Perhaps it's because
The lingering pain
Makes me feel something
Makes me feel alive
Like I'm really being me

Is depression apart of me?
Or does it own me?

Just please
Don't listen to me






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