I want to see my blood cover your hands.
I want you to know just what is happening inside me.
Can you feel the emptiness from where you stand?
I have to feel it in the extreme
Every. Single . Fucking. Day.
If only you knew how much of it is you.
Fourteen months, but not a word.
Did you understand then how painful it would become?
You knew though.
You knew all along.
But you chose to ignore it.
So murder me.
I'm open
YOU ARE READING
Collection of the Dark, Dark Depths
PoesíaFeelings hurt, others insult and we cry, as we lie in our cold embrace together, but they don't know what I think, but now you will. WARNING: Some poems may be triggering PLEASE DON'T STEAL THESE FROM ME.
