There should be no forgiveness inside you.
Not for the hate and not for the dumb move,
Not the excuses on things left unsaid
Or the tyrannical love in my head.
There was no finishing touch, no polish.
No form of empathy and no solace,
Just your confusion of my combustion
Death to me and my disfunction.
YOU ARE READING
the beekeeper.
PoetryVent Poetry Warning: Strong language Trigger warnings: Schizophrenia Self Harm Abuse (physical, verbal, and sexual) Gore
