A A ball of pain, anger, disappointment Is me lying, trembling, on my bed And I sigh, I whimper, i groan I'm regretting words, goodbyes, left unsaid A daughter, forgotten, forsaken, non-existent Is me trying to make myself drop dead And I'm happy, oh now I'm pissed I'm an angry b**** who lost her addictive meds A fighter, gritted teeth and eyes closed Is me trying not to forget, lose my head And I no longer wanna feel this horrid pain I'm crying, evoking from veins a crimson red A lover, passionate, jealous, compulsive Is me bearing a heart that's easy to shred And a kiss from me can be worse than a curse I'm just trying to keep all my desires fed A mess, shattered, torn, destroyed Is me little more or less than depressed And I don't think that I'm worth s*** I'm soon gonna find who's my real friend Don't worry.. I'm not depressed. I'm one of those writer's who can reflect to a point of my life and remember feelings and write about it, or reflect upon feelings of my friends, relate to it, and write about them. Most of poetry is about depression or heartbreak D:
