WARNING!
SA VENT POETRY
VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
I bury myself
In blame and self hate
Dirt on my skin
Dirt on my face
Stains on my body
Personal and red
Stains on my heart
Greying and self led
I must learn to adapt
Grow and move on.
And yet the ticking of that clock
The shattering of that glass (metaphor for broken boundaries)
Will always go on
Dirt on my feet
Cold and unclear
I can't see the path
Nor where I steer
Dirt on my hands
Nothing to hold
No one to hear.
Dirt on my eyes
I can't see what to do.
I don't want to ruin her,
But I can't help but long to.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry and Stories
Poetry!This book will contain! My vent poetry (Some SA, some depression based, some anxiety) Just normal poetry. Short stories !Nothing here will be incredibly happy! Please don't read it if you are easily triggered. I will put trigger warnings at the sta...
