What do I do that isn't seen?
What do I do that makes me unclean?
What hurtful things do I do to myself?
Why is it so hard to ask for help?
Take another pill,
Smoke another joint,
Don't do it,
Just to make a point.
Slice another mark,
Along your wrist,
To mark the days,
That I can't remember.
Use these crutches to,
Hold myself together,
But still hoping,
That somehow I'll get better.
Somewhere deep inside,
There's a part of me that hides,
This is the only part,
That still feels alive.
All you see,
Is someone already gone?
All you hear,
Is the same old song.
So let's,
Take another pill,
Smoke another joint,
Don't do it,
Just to make a point.
Slice another mark,
Along your wrist,
To mark the days,
That I can't remember.
,
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry
Randomthis is all from my poetry journal. just different stuff. I have the randomest crap sometimes XD. please vote comment and add this book to your reading lists.
