I'm in the middle of a field,
It yells and screams,
That I am here,
The screams pierce through the air,
My hands go to my ears,
Only to feel warm liquid,
The smell of blood fills the air,
I start to hear ringing,
Adding to the screams,
Looking to my hands,
The red liquid covers them,
It's starts to slide down my neck,
Soaking my shirt,
It slides down faster,
I fall from everything,
Smacking my face to the ground,
The taste of copper fills my mouth,
More blood,
The ringing,
The screams,
The blood,
It's all too much,
I wish I could escape,
This vast field that is my mind.
YOU ARE READING
Meaningless Words A Book of Poetry
PoetryMy poems may be triggering for anyone that reads them. Throughout 3rd to 7th grade I was bullied, I became depressed, started having anxiety, gained trust issues, started having insomnia, now have PTSD, and recently had someone extremely important...
