I leave before I say anything,
It's hard for me to stay quiet,
I really want to say something,
But I really have to be silent.
I have so much to say,
I have to hold it in,
It's hard for it to go away,
So I let the blade talk to my skin.
I make my arm bleed,
My arm is not paper,
But cutting is what I need,
Idc about the trouble I'll be in later.
It's because my anxiety,
It's now in control,
It's taken over my mind and body,
And I can't let it go.
YOU ARE READING
Ana's Book of Poems
DiversosThese are a bunch of random poems i've wrote over the past years. As these years pass by, i get better and better. My writings get better towards the end (: Enjoy !
