Tw: Blood, self harm, gore, depression
When they find me, I will be alone
Sitting in a corner, staring with dead eyes
When they find me, they will find blood
Dried blood all over my body and soul
When they find me, my neck will be cut, my chest ripped open, and my wrists sliced
Blood still flowing from the wounds
When they find me, my mind will have snapped and escaped my head, leaving an empty shell
When they find me, they won't see any of this
And I will stand up and return to the living.
YOU ARE READING
Love to the moon
PoetryPoetry collection, most of the poems will probably be about the moon
