The knife is cold and unrelenting,
Even as my body is weak and trembling.
I ache for even a touch,
But shakes when i feel the cut.
Even as my wrist is bleeding,
My mind is still reeling.
The adrenaline rush wears off fast,
But the after affects still last.
My brain isn't done with the torture,
It drags on like a cold-hearted morter.
I let the feeling sink in,
Knowing this will happen again.
I know my mind is still weak,
But maybe one day i'll b strong enough to finish at least.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Poetry 2
PoesíaThis is the continuation of my first book labeled, Dark Poetry. They are independent books and can be read alone, each chapter is a different poem and can be read alone from the collection. With that said, please don't steal my works, they are origi...
