You may think I'm alright,
You may think I'm actually happy,
You may think that I've found hope,
But I've relapsed so many times,
I've tried suicide more than 10 times,
I've torn in my skin and tried to
Harvest what's left of the light,
Continuously purging every calorie
Using bandages to hold myself together
Before I eventually fall apart
Dragging down everyone who has ever spoke a word to me.
I keep myself from crying at nights
Crying tears of pain the are blacker
Than my heart that was brutally
Torn at the seems and plastered
Onto a microscope trying to figure
out how to cope.
But I'll relapse again and find myself
Smacking what's left of my
Soul that has been scratching
Me and rattling my bones.
Trying to get out and be free
Instead of dealing with
All my pain and misery.
YOU ARE READING
Loud Pøetry Spilled From The Quiet Soul
PoetryAll of these are mine. Not the Internet. Trigger warning. (Self mutilation, depression, anorexia, etc....) And my apologies if they aren't even slow to Bukowski or Anything....I just wanted to try
