The angry green bruise
It started off small.
With a tiny red mark
But that was all.
Yet over time it grew
Just like my hurt
The red turned a murky brown
Mixing to the Colour of dirt.
Listen closely, I know it's mad
But you can hear the pain I feel
You can hear the sad, the panic, the pain. Everything inside, because if you are really thst interested, you would know that the bruise isn't on my paper skin. It doesn't show where I have drawn a delicate design. No. It's inside my heart, my brain and my soul. It's etched into my very being. The bruise is me.
And my disease.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Poems
شِعرTRIGGER WARNING: this WILL include mentions of self harm, abuse, PTSD, depression, anxiety, suicide and awful thoughts.
