hands
grasped tightly around my neck
hands
not the hands you'd ever expect
hands
its choking me to death
hands
truly they were never really hands
hands
that left marks on your body
hands
others would call this anxiety
hands
that left me choking gasping for air
hands
that wounded me like a knife
-src
YOU ARE READING
Black Eyes And Teenage Suicides
Poetrywhen a boy becomes something more to you than just a boy, things can get messed with your mind. here are my poems of life, mistakes, and a special boy that has helped me to write them all. and maybe a few being lifes way of saying fuck you.
