Sleep never seems to come to me anymore, only a night where I fight again. And again.
Eating seems overrated now, so does showers and cleaning.
Life is so cruel, I never asked for sleepless nights where memory's play over again. and again. In my head.
I stay in the top of my mind, never looking down under my bed or opening my eyes in the dark.
It's normal to fear, but fear your own home?
Home is where the heart is, and mine is as twisted as the sheets on my bed, always thrown off when I sleep.
Because every night a shadow drags them off.
Insanity.
Comment if you hate depression. I don't have it, I jus