Oh how badly I want to see myself bleed.
To watch the blood spill out of my pale skin like a beautiful carmine waterfall.
I want to watch it drip from my arms to the floor, drop down my sides and pool at my feet.
How I ache to feel the throb in my skull as I lose too much
I dream of collapsing to the bathroom floor, too far gone to be saved...
But it's all just fantasy.
.....
-Oliver
1/22
YOU ARE READING
Vent Poetry
PoetryJust some depressed(not all are) poetry that I wrote, some recent some not, but there isn't a lot, I probably wont update this a lot bcs I only write poetry when I have a breakdown and that's like once or twice a year, but enjoy!
