98 Shawna L.
Nothing ever gets better,
I�d say depression can�t be cured.
I�ve asked many times,
exactly what are these pills for?
To see all the mistakes,
in this happy-ending life.
Cut through me like scars,
that was sentenced by this knife.
Nothing can ever be said,
nothing can ever be done.
To get this point across,
of what I am.
I�m a ticking insanity,
that eats away the brain.
An apology to the body,
that has now claimed me insane.
Nothing comes in so pure,
as the awkward stillness of this room.
Nothing scares me as much,
as wishing for my doom.
And nothing hurts so much,
as the scars line my mind.
The twisting of the failures,
leave me in this treacherous bind.
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