The thoughts start within my head
Telling me what I want to do
I'd rather be dead.
The thoughts then transfer into pain
Getting showed down my throat making me feel that my eyes are going to rain.
Not tears of happiness or tears of joy
But tears of sadness do not like when I was a little boy.
The pain then targets certain parts of my body
Shooting down like bullets yet sticking in my flesh.
Making it difficult to move the hurt dictates
My soul and my body that I can't retake
Control of until I hurt somebody.
I won't hurt somebody
I'll just kill myself.
Keep my thoughts away from the world and my head
That would be the best.
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Poetry
PoesiaPoetry by James Matthews includes all his best poems plus special previews of his new works
