The blade is cold like ice
It touches my skin for the first time
I make sure it's not that deep, after all, I don't want people staring.
The next time I feel worse
So the cut goes deeper
Just a tad
Not much
But just enough.
The next time I'm drowning in my tears
The once clean shiny blade is now old and dirty
I don't care.
I go deeper and deeper until tears aren't the only thing I'm drowning in.
Everything goes black
Now I'm awake and start again.
I will update tomorrow. Please vote and comment your thoughts!
YOU ARE READING
The book of misery
PoetryThis is poetry of every day life, you can relate to at least one of these.
