In the bathroom night,
Hoping no one would see the light.
Light, light glowing in the dark hallway,
Turning on the fauset to wash it all away.
Washing the blood from my arm,
Then continue doing self harm.
I take out a my knife, my skin starts to tear,
As I closed my eyes and cried with silent tears.
You feel like doing this is being strong,
But you are jus hurting yourself all along.
Being hurt emotionally?
Or being hurt physucally?
What do you think is wrost?
Either way, I feel like I'm going to burst.
Why am I hurting? Why am I cutting?
My skin, my flesh, my arm..my emotions..
Probably one of the shortest poems I have made, but I hope this will do for today... :) peace out guys, and God bless!
YOU ARE READING
POEMS I a Collection I✔️
PoezjaThis book , is a collection of poems I have made for a portion of my life. It's made with effort, that caused me my life to make. I enjoyed making this, so I hope you enjoy reading this too. Thank you<3
