My head bounds like an absolute bitch.
I want to walk away from all
.I want to walk among the grass
without stepping on dog shit.
I want to lay down in the dirt
I want to jump into a dark abyss
called the ocean.
I want it to swallow me whole and never spit me out.
I want it to close around me, protecting and drowning my already dead body.
When I die, bury me with flowers.
Bury me in the ocean.
Drop my ashes into it and let the fish eat it.
I want to disappear.
Let no one have a piece of me when I die.
If you don't want me alive,
why would you want to have the ash of my burnt and deceased corpse?
YOU ARE READING
In The Mind of Depression
PoetryA "book" full of poems, from a depressed child. These poems are just sincere words and do not (and will not) always make sense, so I antecedently apologize.
