These thoughts,
Worse than the plague,
Worse than the disease rats carry on their backs.
A disease that spreads faster than the common cold.
Even though we have the cure, it still kills more of us than anything else.
And it's all just in your head.
Right?
We pretend it to be true.
The black cloud that follows our unfortunate souls with the leach sucking our happiness, our will to live.
It kills you before you even pull the trigger with your ex boyfriends name on the bullet.
But maybe,
Maybe it's not in my head.
Maybe it's the lack of love my parents have for me,
The undying disappointment I spawn, the undying agony I cause.
No matter the attempts I make, none fit into their expectations and therefore I am the child they birthed without feeling anything but regret.
A constant reminder that I, will never live up to my goddess of a sister, a pure angle in the eyes of everyone who has the pleasure of meeting her.
So this is where I am,
Drowning in my feelings I keep locked up.
The only thing left is finding the words to say goodbye,
But maybe I wasn't meant for a goodbye,
Just a silent wave in my imagination will have to do,
Because the devil has plagued me with the disease of depression and a timer in my heart.