I wonder how I can sit and talk normally with someone at the same time that I drag a razor over my light skin. How I can sit their and look at how the blood turns my skin red at the same time that I talk to my friends.
How I can sit there, all broken, and talk to all of you with a fake happiness.
No one notise.
No one see that I'm hurt and tht i'm breaking inside.
They all believe me lies.
"I'm fine"
YOU ARE READING
Små texter
PoetryHär kommer jag skriva några små texter/dikter, vissa kommer att vara på svenska och vissa kommer vara på engelska. Det kommer vara små texter/dikter om allt möjligt, allt och ingenting liksom. Texterna/dikterna kommer att vara väldigt korta, bara s...
