Her skin on fire, her mind finally free
As she bleeds, her selfharm never leves
She smiles softly
Her kindeye dropping
Falls on to her knees
No need for tears
She knows her place
Never shows her face
Her skin turnes red
She's still not dead
A million pinpricks
in her fingertips
Her arms coverd with blood
You good? She nodes
Inside she is broken
Her heart was stolen
Nobody noticed
That she was the loneliest
YOU ARE READING
Overthinker is writing
PoezjaI overthink a lot but fortunately sometimes something good comes out of it and then I publish it here. You can call it poetry. 16.01.23# 1 - gedanken 18.12.22# 1 - words 16.01.23# 1 - worte 16.01.23# 1 - brainfuck 20.12.22# 2 - poesie 28.12.22# 23...
