Late at night,
no distraction there.
Rewinding the day,
Getting real.
Music in my ears,
The hand on my mouth,
to muffle the sound.
The sound of crying,
The sound the thoughts.
I hear them all,
Made vocal to hit me harder:
I'm ugly, I'm fat.
No ones likes, I deserve every hit.
Unable to change things,
Dying before the world does.
Blood is what they demand.
Late at night,
No distraction is there.
Rewinding the day,
Dying for real.
(11.08.2021)
YOU ARE READING
Sad Poetry
PoetryI write sad poems. I wanted to share them. I'm not a native speaker. I also write sad poems in German.
