I used to cut my skin
But that isn't as important
What matters is I used to cut my soul
I used to tear it down my spirit
Flesh by flesh
Fiber by fiber
I saw my soul and de-humanized her
She was no importance
She did not matter
And I almost killed her
On the outside she seemed fine
Happy, content, beautiful even
But that was no case
She was a liar
Because she was not okay
She was dying
sadly no one saw that
And as the blood dripped from her side
Her soul slowly dripped with it
Like a steady waterfall of pain
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
