depression suicidal understanding notalone
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You always knew it'll never be you
Until you'e standing near the precipice black
A precipice built on pills, blades and cracks
The cracks that you slipped through
On your way to this blackest of noons
I guess I'm hopeless in a sense;
With held back tears and tight clenched fists.
Unable to tear down my wall.
My "strength" unbroken, my tears don't fall.
My weak scarred heart that's barely beating.
