I'm sorry I'm here
I'm sorry I'm breathing , I don't deserve the oxygen Served by the worlds crust. I don't deserve a beating heart. I deserve to be hated and shot down. I deserve to be thrown away at anyone's dispose , use me and bruise me for I won't take it out on you I'll take it out on myself. I've got a fist full of bruises and they will soon be scattered along my stomach from the endless hits I give myself , I pound my fists against my bone and create a dark mark to remind myself that I am useless but right now I'm just so tired.
"Please fucking save me" I plead.
"From who?" You ask.
"Myself"
YOU ARE READING
Poetry from a damaged soul
PoesíaMany words that have been trapped inside finally scratched at the walls of my soul and escaped.
