She runs downstairs, It's half past eight, She does this every single night when it starts to get late.
She runs in the kitchen then back upstairs, Following her is her shadow the only one who seems to care.
Just a quick sway, it's not that bad, It hurts for a little & plus she's sad.
She feels unloved, unwanted, unhappy & dead. She watches the blood trickle down it's glistening red.
Should she go deeper? she probably should, Nothing feels better. Nothing ever could.
So every night when life gets rough she marks up her arms, Enough is never gonna be enough.
If someone noticed what would they say? But she cuts even deeper, she has to anyway.
She wants to stop, she wants to be free but what should she do to make herself agree?
YOU ARE READING
Tear Stained Cheeks And Bloodshot Eyes
PoetryThe angel lost her grace, As mascara ran down her face. She forgot love, remembered hate. She no longer had her faith. With tear stained cheeks, Through bloodshot eyes, She saw only pain and suffering. Love, she couldn't conquer. As the blue sky fad...
