This place used to be my home.

  August 23rd, 2011 by Broken.

I used to come here. Everyday. All day. I think I’m better than before. The depression still lingers in my head. But oh well. I figured it out. I don’t wanna die so much as I just wanna be saved and forget this awful place. My scars still remain. I mean they’ll always be there. But that just means I’ll have a story. I plan on getting them covered with tattoos. Instead of pain for depression I’ll have pain for art. I don’t know why I came back here. I guess it’s cause I’m feeling so lonely tonight. So bad that I just wanna pick my blade back up.

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