NobodyImportant

He supposed it didn’t matter. If she walked out of that room, everything he had worked for, sacrificed for, killed for, was shattered.

I saw her pain, her scars, and said nothing, too frozen by the force of my own pain to offer what relief I could to her's.

Everyone at one point or another struggle with depression or suicidal thoughts. Some hide it well enough that they manage to get through daily life and no one notices.

Tragedy does not always need to end in more pain. The memories are sweet, yet shadowed by loss. Maybe we will see those we love again, and I pray we will never have to let them go.

My grandfather passed away several years ago, yet I can still feel him in every single thing.

I let someone into my life. And they kinda sorta broke me a little bit.

The lines between happiness and absolute hate for one's self and the world are cloudiest when there is no support, only blame and accusations from the ones we love and worship.

Guilt is a funny thing. Blame and accusation hurt the most when one places it on themselves, whether it is deserved or not.

I have no reason for feeling this way, and yet... I do.

A Poem about depression. Kinda sorta.