I don't have any friends
And yet she is always there
Always ready to talk even
though she isn't real
or maybe she is
maybe she isn't just a
figment of my imagination
on lonely nights spend
staring into space
thinking crying and pathetically
relieving the pain I
went through all those years
the years that passed and
the years that has yet to come
she is sweet and caring
loving and truthful
and at the same time she
is harsh hateful a liar
and by no means caring
she doesn't have a physical
form or maybe she does
maybe she is me and
not just one of the many
demons residing in
the shadows of my dark
mind lurking waiting for
the right moment before they
swoop in and attacks
like a lion watching patiently
stalking their prey waiting
till they are at their weakest before
striking taking them out one after
one until there is no one left
juts like my will to live
none existent
but I guess that's life
and even though it sounds horrible
it actually isn't
or maybe it is and I just chose not
to see how bad it really is
focusing on the few good things
I have encountered in my
few short years of living
who knows what of this is real
what of this is fake what is good
and what is bad
who knows anything these days
I know I sure as hell don't
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryI scream till my voice gives out Till my lungs cave in Till my heart beats like a drum Till the blood rushes to my face Till the silence afterwards makes me think I went deaf 'Cause I'm so used to the sound of my own pain I scream until my body stop...
