Go ahead and play your game,
And toy with her to have some fun.
Never hang your head in shame,
And toss her aside when you're done.
After all, what does it matter?
It's just a game for you to play.
You never saw the blood spatter,
You never heard the words she'd say.
You think she's content with this life,
You think the tears are all an act.
But you've never known her strife,
You don't know the demons' pact.
Go and play your game right through.
Take a chance on life or death.
Fool yourself, forget what's true,
Place your bets on her last breath.
Give it all to a game of chance,
But remember the hidden sorrow.
Be cautious of each word and glance,
It might be her last tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
Almost a poet
PoetryI'm trying my luck at poetry so it'd be great to get some feedback. Keep in mind that these poems are strongly related to depression, anorexia, and things of that sort. If you are recovering, this story is not recommended for you.
