A weak spot

No one to thank but savage writer

I feel my spirit switching

The fire burning from this

purgatory singing me

I’ve been through them,

I said I’ve been through them

My depression and glaring insecurities

I never tell anyone about in fears

of being misunderstood and ignored

When I wrote this, don’t you know…

I could have died many days ago

after stress done engulfed me

I tend to think the world would

be better off without me

Its wickedness I am not with

Can’t let anyone near me

not cause of past pain.

Cause I’m simply drained

of every ounce of patience.