This is the poem that fits mt depression tha best*
Hot tears run down my cheeks,
drip from my face
mix with the blood on my wrists
your not sorry
you havent noticed
sitting here razor in hand
snow-white scars criss-crossing my arms and wrists
you dont look
my mood changes
im dark, silent,
where there used to be bright, and cheerful
boots replace sandals
black
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