"Sticks and stones,
make break your bones,
but words can never hurt me."
But that's not real,
'cause that's all I feel,
I do not feel anything else in this life,
Not your hits,
and definitely not the knife.
But your words have sent me to hell and back,
But you won't see that,
because I will always put on an act,
I'll smile when you say shit,
and you're fooled by the mask,
surely if you hadn't,
you would've asked?
Asked if I was "okay"?
Asked if I was "fine"?
Asked about the "angry red lines"?
But, alas, you will probably ask,
only when, from behind the mask,
it is too late to care,
and the mask is removed,
as I fly through the air.
YOU ARE READING
My Maze of a Mind
ŞiirThese are some of my poems that illustrate how I feel sometimes, some will be happy - others not, so sorry if they depress you. WARNING: these poems may be triggering to some, in particular: The Treachery of the Knives, Beautiful Scarlet and The N...
