In the morning will I suffer?
Will I be brutally imprisoned and then sentenced to burn in hell?
Maybe, possibly I won’t
But who can take the chance when the obdurate weight of the inhuman world attacks?
Who can survive in a world where each angle in sharp and painful?
There is a chance
A chance spread my emotionally bruised ragdoll of a body
To give it up to death itself
To become one with the emptiness
To become... nothing.
The iridescent reflection shows me myself like a mirror
Only the broken insanity is driving my head forward
No rearing back
No stopping
The harsh shock of ice cold water doesn’t shock me
It doesn’t drive me away to the hate polluted air
It numbs me
Electrocutes me with a coating feeling... fear?
Yes.
I am afraid, so very afraid
Why do I carry on? Why not stop?
My eyes drop like falling stones
My head spinning like a TV on fast-forward
Round and round the inside revolve
I hear only my regretful thoughts as I slip towards the twilight
Into the thing I never knew
The death I didn’t think out
YOU ARE READING
The Abuse Poems
PoetryA few poems which I made about abuse and self harm, which when I get time will grow from the one I have: The Blade
