I keep looking down
To see if my skin is still there
It feels like it’s crawling off
Trying to leave me exposed
No way to hold myself in
I keep grinding my teeth
So much my fingernails hurt
Sympathy pains maybe
Spreading throughout my body
My muscles are tense
Working my joints
Warming my bones
I might catch fire
It would be my luck
My thoughts would still think
After incineration of all else
I think maybe that’s hell
The moonless midnight
The cradle of despair
A condemning sorrow
Crying tears of kerosene
Creating a wicked dance
To depression’s lament
HASTYWORDS 
A lament or a dirge or a dark love song or thundering screaming indictment – depression can sing them all.
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So very true.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
HASTY – A private lacrimosa
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Wow can sense the anguished, of lost in your words.
Searching to find who goddam truly meant to be want the world to see you as yet affliction. of self-masquerading rides the endless cycle of the roller coaster affect.
Reminds me very much of ” The Tree of ME.”
If you want to see it let me know …. keep feeding your fire and infusing your creative flow.
Slainte
Primal R.e.p.r
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