Author: Secretly-voldemort
She looks down at her silky skin;so white,
She knows that she will ruin it tonight.
The clear air promising a pointless lie,
And her eyes threatening never to dry.
The torment she holds ; ready to use,
Her body awaits the oncoming abuse.
Her blood runs thick as more will shed,
It glistening in the moon a dark ruby red.
She leans back and sighs at the fatal fake numb,
And smoothes the edge of the tyrant gently with her thumb.
Once again she has lost to a monster,
The solely exists just to haunt her.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Poems
PoetryTRIGGER WARNING: this WILL include mentions of self harm, abuse, PTSD, depression, anxiety, suicide and awful thoughts.
