No matter how many times I've written the words, it doesn't mean much
For what words can explain the agony within?
How do I tell anyone I care about that I am leaving.
How, in the morning I will be swinging
And all of the bloodstains you can't explain
The river of skin has been parted to release the Red Sea
What about the bullets hidden under my bed?
And the rope that went missing from the shed?
You don't know what keep in my drawers.
There will always be the rip in the words good bye
For its a lie
What sort of "bye" is a good one?
What kind of "bye" is this that I'm selling?
How many bidders will raise there hands?
What is the cost?
What kind of beauty is a slit wrist?
Am I ugly when I put on that cover-up
What people don't understand is that
My shame is on my body
Because my body is the shame.
If Life is a Lie,
Then Death must be the Truth.
If Life is but a dream,
Then it's the nightmare.
Solace is in the coffin where I lie
Come and join me
It's nice down here
Where no one can see
All of my wounds
All of the regret
For now I know,
No "bye" is a good one.
YOU ARE READING
Fight Your Demons
PoetryPoetry from an angry boy, too scared to be a man A paper heart and an incarcerated mind Caged words and a broken tongue The words spilt in the night This is the absence of light, the expired fight All the demons come to take him away In hopes he w...
