[9/19/17]
tw: self harm
I pull my heart on a string
Not knowing what tomorrow will bring
Because come morning birds will sing
Sitting alone held up by a string
My heart drops and drips
Falls on dead lips
Leaks through my skins' rips
Sitting alone it drips
Even when the sky shows gray
I know I will be okay
On a bed of flowers I lay
Colors spotted in all but gray
And I will get better
To myself in the future I write a letter
For when my face stops getting wetter
The day I push myself and let her
Get better
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
Made for the mental health zine Invisible Illness, my first "published" poem.
YOU ARE READING
Delaney's Little Book of Poems
PuisiA record of my poems with dates. They're not good, and cover topics of mental illness & morbid imagery. Poems may be out of order and as such are dated. [10/17/17] - [3/2/18]
