Reblogged from DEPRESSION: my muse:
this may or may not enhance your reading pleasure.
The sand on the bottom of my feet didn't come from here, but the rope burns around my neck did.
The hatred in my heart for myself and for you was born here, it grew up right here.
This is not my hatred, it's yours and I'm ready to set it free and send it home like…
Can't write any value added content to this...

