The rough feeling of bone danced in my hands,
A loud, terrifying thought.
Had I done this?
Had I, of all people
Break who this man used to be?
Beat him so bloody, that he couldn't remember his name?
Break him so far where he wanted to hurt others?
Push him to the point where he was then alone?
That-- Was not me
But the voices in my head that were telling me to stop
To end the pain that resonated from my soul.
That pushed me so far, that I couldn't handle it.
I remember this
As my father cries and my mother rejoices.
As I feel myself lowering
To the point of no return.
YOU ARE READING
Invisible Papercuts
ŞiirA small book of poems. Some can be very triggering. I write mostly free verse. If you don't like it, don't read it. All of these are fueled from conversations I've had or things I've felt. In Honor of my Uncle.
