Monday, November 3, 2014

All you desperate poets
Diligently searching for the perfect words
To describe your solitude, melancholy, the knives, the cuts,
Hopelessness, hatred, despondency, disease,
Famine of the Soul. 
But to me, depression is about
Hitting snooze twenty times on your alarm clock
Because getting out of bed is just….

Too.  Fucking.  Hard.  

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