I cannot escape this never ending cycle
Of pain and suffering and sorrow
The way I keep myself from pain;
the burns, the breaks, the cuts, the days
The days of starvation, The shattered bone, The flesh to flame, The scarred skin
Its all a way to help calm me
Yet no one seems to see
The reasons why I do these things
These things that help bind me
I do them to end the pain
I do them to help hide my darkened state
See no one seems to believe me when I say
I do these things so you can be proud of me
Without these things I'd fall apart
Without these things I'd have no heart
See when you look with such saddened eyes
Trying to find the darkness that lies inside of me
You show the disappointment you have for me
And I cant help but blame myself
I cant help but hate myself
And so it all starts again.
YOU ARE READING
A Story Told, But Never Really Heard
PoetryThis is me. With no boundaries I reveal myself and hopefully save myself. I'm not sure whether I am writing this for you, or for me, but I hope it makes an impact none the less.
