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[color=#DF0101][b]Warning[/b][/color]
This poem talks about severe anxiety and depression. If you are uncomfortable with that, please do not read this. 
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[hider=The Darkness Of Today]
The ink from my pen reminds me of the abyss. 
It reminds me of all the thing forgotten and left behind. 
It reminds of the darkness of today, tomorrow, and next week. 

The broken tip of my pencil reminds me of things unsaid, 
And things I wish I could erase. 
It reminds me of all the words to come out my mouth, wishing they could crawl back. 

My red pen reminds me of all my mistakes. 
All the 60%s, the failures. 
It reminds me of every little red speck of blood against my skin, when I wish I could be out of it. 

The dog-eared pages of my borrowed book remind me of everything wrong I’ve ever done. 
They remind me of when I stole cookies from the animal shaped jar, 
They remind me of my vandalism, my rudeness, and my fear. 

The person next to me peeking up over their computer reminds me of everything I’ll never have.
The things I won’t taste, touch, or smell. 
The experiences I’ll miss, the people I’ll never meet, the apologies I’ll never get to say. 

This next to empty room reminds me of all the people I pushed away. 
All the friends I used to have but said goodbye to.
All the people I have yet to meet, and all the relationships I have yet to ruin. 

Everything here reminds me of myself. 
Reminds me how little I am, truly. 
How big, and important, every move I make seems to be. 

It reminds me of every day I’ve had to say sorry, 
Every day I’ve cried, 
And every day I’ve suffered to stay alive. 

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