"I'll stop"
I told myself.
Yet, there's had been days
When I had the urges to do so
To see the color red
Dripping from my skin.
Urges to feel the physical burning sensation. Pain.
Pain that felt like ant bite.
The stinging sensation
Is a way I cope with my emotions
Promised that
I'd love my skin
Promised that
I'd take care of it.
But when shit goes down
The promises are broken.
YOU ARE READING
101 Letters For Myself
PoetryThis shall be a place where I keep my writings whenever I feel down. Work of mine, please do not copy and share without permission.
