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In My Pocket


I keep a turtle in my pocket,

It clinks against a key.

Both are deadly weapons,

But only when used on me.

They took away the darkness,

Like little beams of light.

But their shine is gone,

Left in everlasting flight.

Maybe I’m just crazy,

But when I feel them there,

They remind me of love,

And fill me with despair.

I’m an empty husk,

A vessel of blinding pain.

But with my little objects,

Somehow I’m still sane.

I keep a turtle in my pocket,

It clinks against a key.

Both of them evoke,

A painful memory.

 

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If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

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gavinbair0

I am a high school student at a small school, I've been through a lot so far throughout my life, but there are three things that I normally write about: I write about the depression that I battle every day and often lose to, and I write about the two women that I've fallen in love with, both of which left, and I'm never going to see either one again. If you like my writings, please e-mail me at [email protected]. It helps to know when people enjoy or relate to the things that I write.

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