Crappy poem I made.


They're beauty in the breakdown
Thats what I hear them say.
I've yet to see it, but maybe there's a way?
To stop this melting of my body, my conscience, & my sanity
Maybe this is all in vain, athough I feel no vanity.

This depression is unnerving, I just feel so alone
I feel as if I'm falling, like I'm lost in the unknown.
Nothing seems right anymore, maybe I should stop denying
The evidence is right in front of me, I've ran fresh out of "trying."
Depression is an ugly thing, there is not beauty in it.
This war I wage within myself, I know there is not winning
Although I'm running on empty, the pain is just beginning.

Its picked me apart,
& tore at my soul,
Shredded up my heart,
I now know that it's never letting go.

The end, I hope is nearing and I cannot hear a sound.
So this is what they say, when they're beauty in the breakdown.