I wish I was perfect. But I am no where near there. I have too many flaws to count.
I cut myself, I cry until my body becomes numb. I watch as the blood oozes from my skin with a smile. I watch as my own blood falls to the floor.
I hate myself to the point where it would turn into verbal abuse. I think that if I could just die right now, that maybe, just maybe people would care for me. But I know they won't, and that hurts the most.
When I think that I will fit in, and stand out like a black finger on a white hand.
I think of suicide, almost everyday. And I'm a coward because I'm too afraid of what will happen when I'm dead.
But that's what makes me so imperfectly perfect.
So yeah, I embrace it. And I accept that,
I'm not perfect...
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken Words ✔
PoesiaThese poems are made from my heart. I did not use the internet, nor did I follow or copy off of someone's poem. These poems are special to me, they're not professional as others but they make me happy and they mean so much to me. I'm happy to share...
