Wednesday, May 4, 2022

Writings of a depressed teen (several years back)

Where does the lost run to? 

Where does the unstable gain stability?

When do unreasoned tears dry?

When does the compass stop spinning?

How do you find the lost?

How can you heal non-visible wounds?

What does it take to be found?

What will security feel like?

Why is it always just out of reach?

Why must I wander aimlessly?

Who can help?

Who can find the lost?


No purpose is purgatory. Trapped in flesh cage. Everything is so repetitive. So utterly pointless. I AM THE LIVING DEAD. 



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