destynistarr

I am not a graceful person.
I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm.
You don't see the lightening, but you hear the echoes.
 

People think depression is sadness.
People think depression is crying. People think depression is dressing in black. But people are wrong. Depression is the constant feeling of being numb. Being numb to emotions, being numb to lie. You wake up in the morning just to go back to bed again. Days aren't really days; they are just annoying obstacles that need to be faced. And how do you face them? Through medication, through drinking, through smoking, through drugs, through cutting. When you're depressed, you grasp on to anything that can get through the day. That's what depression is, not sadness or tears, it's the overwhelming sense of numbness and the desire for anything that can help you make it
from one day to the next.
 

If you knew i was dying, would it change you?
If you knew I was dying, would it change anything?

 

If you could take a pill that would kill you instantly with no pain..

Would you?