depression

Frustration flows through her veins. Everyday the inner strain grows greater and greater, ripping her apart from the inside. With each pump of her heart, she pulses pain. Redefining the meaning of a broken heart, she has nothing left to smile for. Trapped inside a body of self-defined flaws, mirrors pour nothing but constant insecurities into her closed mind. Her throat burns with good intentions, but she has built a tolerance to the bottle she holds. Her lungs breathe the truth, but only lies can be found through the smoke on her tongue. Whimpering whispers in her head yearn to be heard. Her mother's voice whispers into her ear as it often did. "Each day is a new day, some are good and others are not. Don't give up on a bad day, because a good one is one its way." The calm, loving voice almost sounds convincing some days. Today was not one. Withering in self-pity, she grabs the half empty bottle of clear liquid. As she puts the bottle up to her cherry lips, her green and brown bracelet slid genitally, gracefully down her scared wrist. Memories dive into her ceriberial fluid and poke at her tender conscience. Fighting with all her power to suppress these thoughts of her past, she downs the rest of her good intentions. Green and brown flashes in front of her eyes. Memories pour in with perfect chronologly. His face shinned with devosion and charm.

I couldn't finish this because I was getting too sad. But someday I will.