Life equals not dying

Some random crap I wrote this morning while In was bored and depressed.

If I could trace this tree shaped map

the silver edge sinks to the sap,

the roots are in my heart.

The feelings pump out, bleed me dry,

the spirit leeching, live or die.

A splurge of poison. Shards,

the sharp of mirror in my eyes,

the dark, and failure to disguise

how weak I am to start.

Consider all the pain i've dealt,

forced you to suffer what I felt,

this is my world. My cards.

Author's Note

This is probably crap but I don't care. I'm a depressive and i'm trying to write instead of less constructive behaviour. If you want a good poet check out Selina Whitely who is genuinely talented.