Sitting in a room full of people,
I'm crying,
not on the outside,
but on the inside.
In the core of my heart,
I'm sobbing.
The tears scratch at my eyes,
but I smile.
A cry claws my throat,
but I laugh.
And my body aches to be torn open,
to bleed,
to let it out.
But I sit,
like a good little girl,
and smile.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe it Will End
PoesíaWARNING TRIGGER Just a collection of poems that are written about self harm and depression. All poems written by me unless said otherwise Cover by lilydawnxx
