Suicide
It's not the razors, can't you see. It being alive that's killing me..
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Lili.14.Australia. I write short stories and poems :)
It's not the razors, can't you see. It being alive that's killing me..
A Devil stopped by today. And promising relief Offered to buy my soul . Na, not today I said .
Depression is like riding down a hill. The hill never ends, and the only way to stop is to fall. Every day it gets worse. The hill gets steeper, you start to get faster.
Tiny white specks. Scattered, across the universe. Such beauty unknown to man. So simple, yet so enchanting. So far away, yet seeming so close. So close. I can touch them now.