• gar_cia 23w

    My anxiety sits in a corner listening attentively to my conversation with depression, as I sip on problems.
    I locked my dementia in the wardrobe and put its keys of triggers in my pocket.
    My eating disorders are hanging on the walls of my kitchen as wallpapers.
    But now it is late
    I'm cooking dissociation for dinner
    And I have to escort my psychosis to the door because my paranoia is at its way back home.