sketch a blade and engrave it alive,
it's what i used to cut my veins open
every time i sought punishment for myself
for being ugly,
stupid,
horrible,
worthless.
paint the stone dark crimson red,
it's the color of my flowing blood
in midnight when it was all overwhelming
and i was angry,
outraged,
sick,
sad.
wicked grin, devil on the bathroom wall.
i battled them, but they were undefeated.
pour some wine and sprinkle rose petals,
pack my loneliness in a black box
and put it next to my name.
maybe you will remember this unloved girl,
forgotten,
forsaken,
dead.
YOU ARE READING
kryptOnite
PoetryI write because nobody listens. --- A poem collection Written in 2 languages EN/ID Updated (almost) daily © 2020 by ohjuliette - Highest rank: #2 in poems [June 05-09, 20] #1 in words [June 10-13, 20]
