"And it's getting to the point,
That I can see the pain anywhere
Sprawled across my walls at night
Or spilling from my skin
But not each level of pain is the same colour
I can see some of it, hiding behind her hazel eyes
Or lining the white walls of my school
Most are clear, from all the tears I've been crying lately
It seems that I almost drown in them every night
But my favourite type of pain
Does not have a colour or a feeling
It has a sound to it
And I love the sound of "I love you" slipping off her lips
It seems to almost fall from her mouth, wishing someone would clean the mess she made up when it touches my heart
Kinda like how blood falls from my wrist
Cause I've figured out that the only real way to stop all this pain,
Is to end it all together"
-r.b
YOU ARE READING
Midnight wonders
Poetry•Exulansis: the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it •Sciamachy: a battle against imaginary enemies, against your own shadow. •Eccedentesiast: a person who fakes a smile For some people...
