I used to be good at poetry,
Ink dripping from my veins,
Until I was told to leave my writings aside,
And got assigned an essay,
Words were my escape,
And now they're the ones I need to escape,
My parents looked at my grades,
As I bowed my head in shame,
I gave up on writing,
It was no longer an adventure,
Nor did it describe my motivations, and intentions.
I gave up on the essays,
On fiction,
Fairy tales of princesses and dragons.
I gave up on poetry:
My sanity.
My imagination's gone,
And no longer running wild.
I am now a calm girl stuck in the real world,
With no words for escape,
And no hope for a future,
Stuck in an endless loop of school, home, work, sleep.
Save me from me.
Ink no longer running in my veins,
Or dripping on paper,
Just the blood dripping from my wrists,
And on stained bedsheets.
A broken mirror,
And shattered glass.
Agonizing pain,
Makes me dream of death.
The only poetry here,
Is the disaster I am.
The only nightmare I have,
Is letting go of poetry.
"They've promised dreams can come true,
But forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams too."
YOU ARE READING
Drowning In Sorrow- Poetry
Poesia*Trigger Warning* Suicide, cutting, depression, abuse, self harm, death etc. ~I didn't know happiness as well as I know sorrow ❤️ Stay strong ❤️
