a scar , a scratch
that expirience that leaves you
with a mental scab.
the scab that never heals.
when you pick it , it bleeds .
the pain all over again.
who am i , to think,
that one day , i all will be ok.
when my veins , themself,
will strangle me like a noose
when my voices hack away at my scars.
i bleed all over again.
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NOTE:
HEY READERS , THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORDS .
YOU ARE READING
Grinding gears
Poeziethe demons are calling crystal clear calling but the clarity is a trap just to be sure can be twisted in itself when you think you speak with god but its the demons that are calling
