Mental Health
Blood on My Praying Hands. Content Warning.
And that was the last time you ever saw me. It took me hours to get home on that day. Determined, and exhausted due to the complete absence of sleep over the previous three days. I found no luck in getting any rest at the train tracks the night before. The mosquitos at my skin kept me awake despite my efforts to dig my face into my backpack or to pull my sleeves over my fingers. Peace and security had far left this terror of reality I was existing in.
By Jacob Navarrete9 months ago in Poets
