Nails painted red
Eyes blood shot with makeup smudged and smeared from crying
Lips dry from kissing too many mouths
Legs too long and un-graceful
Arms cut and covered with sleeves
Body bruised and tattered
Mind fuzzy and scattered with racing thoughts that never dare to be said
What have I become?
My reflection only stares back at the person i thought i knew with teary eyes and bloody hands
What have you become!
I scream. I scream and I scream.
And then I cry. I cry and cry and vow to not be this me
I won't be this me any longer
B
U
T
it continues
You can't change just like that
You can't change with a snap of your bloody fingers
YOU ARE READING
storms and blood
Poetrythe death of which is unknown -figured out between the lines of within these pages
