There's something building inside of me,
it's trying to get free.
Oh wait!
I think I have it under control,
even if it is still a weight.
Oh shit!
All hope was lost when you started to hit,
that, was when the fire was lit.
It's building again - I can feel it grow.
and this time it's not going to go.
Your hate made this,
your anger,
your fists,
I do hope indeed that I will be missed.
But I guess that's what set me off in the first place,
"HOPE",
A false thing, used to hurt those without grace.
I went too far this time,
on those poor wrists of mine.
I can feel it all leaving,
I can feel it all go.
My life,
my strife,
that feeling inside,
it's all disappearing;
all with the knife.
As consciousness leaves me,
and darkness surrounds,
my only thought is "will I be found?"
But it doesn't matter,
shouldn't matter to me,
all that does matter is how I'll be free.
YOU ARE READING
My Maze of a Mind
PoetryThese are some of my poems that illustrate how I feel sometimes, some will be happy - others not, so sorry if they depress you. WARNING: these poems may be triggering to some, in particular: The Treachery of the Knives, Beautiful Scarlet and The N...
