we may call
this love
but this is not
love
i can tell
in the way
you wrap your
hands
around my
neck
the same way
i grip a pencil
this is not
something
you want to
do
this is something
you feel you
need to
it is a coping
mechanism
never healthy
but for some
reason
still existent
it is
how you
choose to
help
yourself
you help
yourself
deal with
your anger
by hurting
me.
i help
myself
deal with
my pain
by writing
about
you.
YOU ARE READING
realities of a broken soul | poetry
PoetryA collection of my private, most cherished poems. authors note: certain poems talk in relation to self harm or depression, including mentions of suicide. such poems are marked with an "(x)" in the chapter title.
