I feel so sick.
Never wanted to die so bad.
My stomach's dead,
it starts to digest itself.
I wish the process was quicker
so that I don't have to endure anymore pain.
This will to rest everlastingly
has never been so strong.
My tears dropped on the floor
they dried quicker than the source.
My wounds have already healed
but my heart scarred for the rest of my life.
I wish I was less sensitive.
Or I hope I am just broken
like a glass
or a vase
because I know I'm fragile.
And I pray to stay as I am
hence to just stop working.
To just stop thinking.
To just stop loving.
To just stop everything.
To just stop.
Don't give me a spark of hope
and just let me bleed
so that my blood will let you resent forever.
Because you were never there to blow on my fresh splinters.
Because you were never there.
YOU ARE READING
OLD FILMS IN POETRIES
PoetryIt's a film in poetry─A little lively,a little sad,a little death,a little pleasure,a little desire and wishes,a little rest and a little nurturing.
