What depression makes me.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
what depression does to me.

Submitted: March 01, 2013

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Submitted: March 01, 2013

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I sit, nothing is crossing my

mind.

I stare, but do not hear a

thing.

I breath, feeling nothing but

numb.

I speak, so people people think i'm

fine.

I eat, tasting ash on my

toung.

I think, just so that I

move.

I listen, to make my self believe I

see.

I touch, so that I know to

breath.


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