The psychiatrist doesn't have the time.
The therapist is still on hold.
The counselor doesn't know how.
The journal has lost it's inspiration.
The friends have grown accustomed.
The strangers are blind as ever.
The teacher accepts the lie.
The mother cares too much.
The father doesn't give a fuck.
The lover is forever lost.
And I am still dying, slowly, before all of your eyes.
No comments:
Post a Comment