She screamed at the world.
She emptied her lungs.
But the world didn't scream back.
It sung.
It sang with the wind blowing in the trees.
It sang with the river, running wild and free.
And she longed to be part of the world out there.
But no. Not while she was here.
Because slitting her wrists and downing her drinks was better than singing.
Thats what they think.
So she raised the knife high and thought to compromise.
She could have cuts on her wrist and sing with the wind.
For what better way to be part of the Earth, Then to be buried deep within its warm dirt?
YOU ARE READING
Dark Dreams and Happy Minds
PoetryThis is a collection of poems. They cover a variety of topics, suicide, self harm, family problems. Some happy ones are there. Just like in life there are some happy times, but a lot of sad ones too.
