Depressed Souls.

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Stress.

*Panic Disorder. May trigger some. Does not talk about self harm but a few lines may seem as such.*


So much pent up stress.
So much more than I can take.
Will I live to see another ‘tomorrow’?
Will I get to say another ‘today’?

It’s so much more up in my mind
Than you would see on the outside.
Yes, I stay in my room
But there’s so much more on my mind.

Like an apple rotten on the inside.
I may seem fine on the outside
But just cut through the layers
And you’ll see the chaos.

Like a frozen water bottle.
You won’t know unless you touch.
Unless you give it time,
It won’t pour out.

So much more than you see.
So much more than I’ll ever be.
I can’t live up to your standards.
I need a new skin; present one’s tattered.

Sweat trickles into the crevices of my body.
Salty tears make their way on my cheeks.
Runny nose makes it harder to breathe.
Unspoken words melt into saliva and they leak.

Shaky hands try to touch something unreal,
Like my hopes and optimism.
Paining chest and ribs trying to get back some air
Like the times when I didn’t care about my problems.

Numbness tries to take over my face,
Trying to get rid of the ache.
If only my mind would do the same,
Trying to replace everything with numbness.

So much stress and they turn into bodily fluids.
Sweating skin, teary eyes, runny nose and drooling lips.
Hungry for a taste of the manics.
But they all go back when my minds gets another panic.
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