I watched the blood drip from my arm.
A happiness, a sadness, an excitement consumed me in a beating tingle. Pins pricking my body, telling me to do it again.
And I do it again.
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Until my arm is red.
And the pain no longer pleases me.
A cry climbs in my throat, it's nails dragging at my skins, and tips through my lips, spitting tears and sobs.
And I am Alone.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe it Will End
PoezjaWARNING TRIGGER Just a collection of poems that are written about self harm and depression. All poems written by me unless said otherwise Cover by lilydawnxx
