Blood fills me and inside my heart is tore. Covered in thorns as I wish I was never born. Inside my head I wish I was dead. The things I've seen shouldn't have be revealed as I child, it was so real. Momma can you hear me. Nothing seems to be reality. Mere mortality. Keeps me stuck in this stupid pathetic runt.
YOU ARE READING
Sinking
PoetryPoetry That I Have Written My Friends Always Said I Should Make A Book Dedicated To Them....So Enjoy?
