I was young and happy. growing of survival but that wasn't really my title. I have a dead soul whose reaching for survival suffering under the mask that covers my face day by day, a young girl who soon became suicidal.
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I was then feeling the burst of pain fro society, probably the reason why I suffer from anxiety. was I ever in the form I perfection? no, so I put myself in neglection.
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they have called me names such as bitch, whore, slut and many more, so I started to believe. they would always say my family is fucked up.
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knives coming from every fucking direction ducking and fighting to stay alive. but there I was already alone. after all I was wishing it could end.
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and it didn't. it never did. everytime I felt good they would remind me that I'm nothing. they put me down then kicked me till I couldn't get up, tore me apart like a teddy bear. they took all the fight I got.
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I was so fucking done. got tired of all the shit so I decided to run, but you can run forever. you eventually get tired. so there I am staring at my blade wishing my life would expire.
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so I said fuck it. if I was really nothing then nothing would stop me from ripping my skin. I placed it on my skin and preceded to tear but then I stopped and thought "how could I be so selfish? how could I think I'm nothing when to somebody in everything..."
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YOU ARE READING
Breaking Thoughts
PoetryMy books are about the poetry I write, it's very deep and emotional.
