Crimson beads line my wrist.
They didn't know If I'd exist.
Years later I was but seventeen
A quiet girl both tall and lean.
But peek inside of my long sleeves
And you will see what the past leaves.
How cruel, the world, It choked me out.
No one could hear me scream and shout.
A bundled mix of pain, you see
Because of the people who wouldn't let me be.
How proud, you must be, to say my name
When you know that I was filled with shame.
I saw it happen. The words that they said.
"Go kill yourself, do it. You're better off dead."
That night i thought, If only they knew.
But those words they said, what if they're true?
YOU ARE READING
Mourning Skies
RandomDark poetry, slam poetry, love poetry, five word stories, and my deepest thoughts
