4:02 am
depression hits you
when you least expect it
but when it hits you
it fucking hits
\\
hits harder
than your running shoes
can pound on the pavement
you can't out run yourself
\\
hits stronger
than the smell of his colongne
that's found a new pretty neck
to call home
\\
hits faster
than the painful realization
that no amount of harm
you take out on your arms
will ever make you okay
👁 1💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.