My minds intertwined with thoughts making plots, leading me to believe I am nothing.
It's like snow twisted on rooftops and roads being stirred up by the wind.
I sit in my room wondering when the voices will stop telling me to die.
I know they're right
But I just wish I had one night to myself without them screaming at me. I hate it all but I deserve the pain, I'm distorted and ugly I'll never be good enough for anyone.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry from a damaged soul
ПоэзияMany words that have been trapped inside finally scratched at the walls of my soul and escaped.
