Then there's me in my head
Telling me things I'll probably regret
That I should kill myself because I look like a mess
And no one is here to stop me
Because I don't make friends
Well at-least it has kept my pen running
Even if it has made my wrist bleed
It's a Sunday night and I'm crying
Thinking of every person I know
I should start dying
Now, spasming standing over the sink
Having an epiphany
I might be more of a psycho than
I like to think
Held hostage with a bouquet of roses to my head
Sparkling dust over moon coloured dress
YOU ARE READING
Love, Pain & Me
Poetry𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒏 & 𝑴𝒆 𝑨 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒆 Highest ranking:- #1 in poetry collection #1 in poetry #1 in Rookie #1 poem collection #1 poem book #1 sad poem #1 poem
