I will scream into the darkness and wait for my echo
I should do something with these hands
But how can these hands leak colour
These same bleak hands have hurt a soul
My hands are my enemy
Tugging and pushing and twisting
Why do the worst things come to those who wait
I have waited my whole life
Even longerFor these hands to clear
I notice the way you come to me
With your eyes closed
Even I do not look in the mirror
I lie every time I tell you my secrets
Even my own are unbeknownst to me
My hands are my masters
I will scream into the darkness and it will answer
YOU ARE READING
Poems that make my heart sting
PoetryAll of these were written by me. If you aren't a black hole full of sadness and screams by the end of the poem I haven't written a good poem.