I don't like myself
I want to destroy my face
Rip out my lungs
I want to gouch my eyes out
And stick them in a jar along
with my
tongue
I want my torso dragged
across the concrete
and my hands torn off
and shoved down my throat
so I can throw up my mistakes
I'm so sick of myself
I deserve to be sick
I'm not a undid masterpiece
I'm a waste
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The Poors Of The Pity •Mental Health Poetry•
PoetryThis ones is filled with poems that I had created when I was going through a rough patch. Its shows you that it doesn't last forever though it might feel like it. I was going through a lot in multiple scenarios and I just wanted to show you if you w...