Pain
It sits there,
growing bigger with each passing day,
it's neighbor hate
Pain,
from the words she says,
from the knives she throws. Uncaring,
when they embed themselves in my chest
Going deeper with each hit
Pain,
as I tear at my chest,
wishing to rip it out
Even though it sits so deep now
But human hands and nails are not enough,
so my nails are sharpened on
broken trust
till my nails are talons
and I dig into my chest
searching for the
Pain.
Till all is left is a gaping hole where part of me used to be,
and a pain that won't go away.
It won't go away.
A/N: Writing about some things, actually helps.
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PoetryPoems, just poems. This is pretty much my notebook, where I write down stray thoughts and ideas. These poems are not always about me or anyone specific. Highest Ranking: #53 6/8/17 #106! 4/25/17 #94! 4/26/17 #85! 4/27/17 #78! 5/1/17 #71 5/8/17...
