What have I done,
With my blood on the floor.
I'm out of control,
I keep coming back for more.
The pain stings,
But it's only for a moment,
Before I'm filled with relief.
And break down and cry.
There's still blood on the floor,
I want their to be more.
I want blood instead of tears,
Seeing blood trickle down eases my fear.
But then my head starts to pound,
It's telling me enough,
Time to clean up the mess I made
Before I drop and give up.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryThe first poem i wrote for creative writing. The rest is my life and what I feel or what I think, so please don't judge. Thanks!
