Sometimes, I'm almost sure you can see my bones
Whenever you're around, you leave me helpless, exposed
My brain, my lungs, my heart are no longer an issue
You see straight past the arteries, past the soft tissue
Your eyes land on my skeleton, which I've worked so hard to be
The pain stings like, a thousand knives, when only you have the eyes to see
My chest that hides a frantic heart, becomes rattling ribs and spine
My head which seems so screwed up, is nothing but skull in line
And the vertebrae which connect my back, curled into a ball
Come tumbling apart
When you tear out my heart
And let the pieces fall
My hands, with flesh, are shaky at best
I need you to hold them together
But my shoulders stand tall, like a marionette doll
When your eyes reflect bad weather
Then you fly into a rage
And my clattering bones become my cage
Am I nothing but a puppet?
You offer food through the bars
But, well, food isn't ours
And my hard-wiring isn't yet corrupted
So I know your tricks
And everything that makes you tick
I know you love the color red
And your hair is caramel upon your head
I know what music you listen to
When someone else has abandoned you
I know the songs you wrote me
Your favorite anorexic tea
And I know you aren't good for me
YOU ARE READING
Please, Disregard
PoésieAn untold story from a misplaced generation, this is teen angst at its finest. These the writings of The Suicide Notebook, or how I'd imagine them to be. It's mostly going to be in poetry form, slam or rhyming. Keep in mind that slam poetry sounds a...
