Loneliness is feeding off my broken pieces little by little.
Maybe death is near.
I hear his whispers.
Some people afraid of it
But it is the most beautiful thing ever.
The promise of death
Makes you realize your time is finite here and you can be whoever you want to be.
Some day we all die and become stories.
I'll become a sad one
A miserable one
A story that people look back to and say,
"I never want to end up like her/him."
They blame it all on me and I won't be there to defend myself.
But I will
I will crawl out of my grave and scream at those trying to spread lies and say
I was asking for it.
No I was not
No I was a child
No I didn't know any better
No I was afraid
No
No
No
You don't know anything about me
Don't spread lies
Lying is a sin
Don't you know sinners burn in hell?
-father forgive me for I have sinned and kept quiet.
See what your children have become
Aren't you our Heavenly Father?
YOU ARE READING
Haunted |+18|
PoetryA letter of all the things I cannot say out loud but am constantly thinking and being haunted by. Dark content used in the story Read at your own risk
