The shouting,
The screaming
It's all too much to bear.
Everything in this world is superficial.
Nothing lasting long enough, it all turns to dust,
Seeping through your fingers,
While you struggle to keep hold,
To get a good grasp on it.
But it slips through anyway.
The absence of meaning,
The hole left by these things lost
Leaves me vulnerable.
They entered my mind.
Invaded every fibre of my being.
The monsters.
The words they spit,
Each syllable, a knife burying itself in my heart.
Driving me to hate myself.
Injecting me with so much anger, it can't be contained.
It falls out of the cracks in my soul on to those I love.
I push people I love away, making them hate me
All because of the monsters.
They have mined me out.
Leaving just a hollow shell,
Their words echoing, resonating, Ricocheting.
The knives have nothing to sink into.
So they just sit waiting to jump onto any emotion.
The monsters caused the salty tears to roll down my face every moment I was alone.
The hate and anger inside of me.
The anguish I held over imperfections
The horrible words piercing my heart
The cold metal against my skin.
That night,
Right before I did what I did.
I realised the truth.
There were never any monsters.
It was just me.
I am the monsters.
DU LIEST GERADE
Broken minds
PoetryPoetry. Basically. "I lay awake at night The blistering silence pressing; Consuming me. Left to contemplate every thing that I've done wrong" Some may be in my other book but here is just for poetry, or something that resembles it. DISCLAIMER: so...
