You ask me to write you a poem,
I pen you an empty ocean,
You run away.
You ask me who I am,
I paint you a breaking sky,
You weep in the rain.

This empty shell holds nothing but the echoes of what was.

Depression is like waking up and opening the blinds because your plants need sunlight, but it's 8p.m. It's always 8p.m and you keep apologizing for it.

I act as the tongue of you,
... tied in your mouth . . . . in mine it begins to be loosened.

Don't ask me any questions. I've seen how things that seek their way find their void instead.

No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself. It’s like your shadow. It follows you everywhere. -Komura