Тhe reasons of my scars
are hidden deep inside my mind.
My skin was cut once again.
I did it, I don't want to explain.
I thought I'm done with this.
I said I will never let again the blade and my skin kiss
but I cheated on myself last night.
I continued my fight.
Maybe I will do the same today,
nothing will ever change.
And probably tomorrow
I'll drown even more in sorrow.
I will paint my skin in red.
Red which will make me feel ashamed.
But what am I supposed to do?
I'm weak, my soul has been abused.
Don't worry about me, though.
I have to deal with this alone.
One day I will get better
but tonight when I bleed, my words won't matter.
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Mess
PoetryЖивотът ме направи една бъркотия от емоции. Оплитам се в собствения си хаос с всеки изминал ден и чувството е задушаващо. Но изкуството освобождава душата ми от болката и я превръща в нещо красиво. Това е мигът, в който се чувствам свободна. Думите...
