Just once more.
One more time.
The scars are gone
I want them back.
Just one more time.
What will it matter?
I'll go back to wearing the sweaters and long sleeves, the jeans and sweatpants.
I'm trapped.
I'm stuck.
Now I can't stop.
It's a relapse.
Once again.
YOU ARE READING
Suicide Poems From A Broken Soul
PoetryNot for the weak of heart. Even the brightest smiles have the darkest feelings behind them. We all have a story. Happy, sad, angry, paranoid. We all do. Our smiles can be the greatest boundaries between ourselves and everyone else. Our smiles don't...
