The lights died down,
His smile turned,
I couldn't see,
The knives would strike,
Would pierce my skin.
The blood was dripping.
A pool of blood
Drowning my feet
Blinding my eyes,
Making me cry.
His face faded,
Instead,
Many others
Appeared.
But smiles no longer,
Angry grins
With eyes of hatred.
My hands are burning,
My strength is fading.
Darkness all around.
I would cry,
But my eyes are dry.
And why would I satisfy
Those hateful eyes.
Why should i see
A smile on their faces
When my lip trembles
And even hope is leaving.
Sometimes a knife
Is all i think of.
But then that face,
The one that left,
The one that may betray me,
My life source.
The one i hold on for
That face appears,
Sends me hope,
Sends me strength,
Sends me a smile.
But all around,
Not just me, him too.
It's all blood
And pain and tears.
All that, but somehow,
Just that face,
Those eyes,
Those lips,
That rare smile,
Gives me power.
Makes me laugh
At pain, at myself.
I smile for him,
I live for him,
I try.
Sometimes,
Not just my smile,
His too.
It leaves.
People steal it from me.
It saddens me,
And when I'm sad
I throw a knife.
The sharpest one.
I make it hurt,
Because he's mine,
You can hurt me.
But don't lay a finger
On what is
MINE.
YOU ARE READING
Nightmare
PoetryIt's not what it seems it is. Your eyes can lie, a nightmare is everywhere. To anyone who knows me in real life: Yes, I am depressed, yes, I self-harm. But I write this for myself more than for anyone else, if you do decide to read this, I want you...
