I can hear you
In your mind you are
Screaming
Screaming and screaming
But no one's listening
No one but me
Listen to me, child
You know where the razor is
Top right drawer under the sink
Take a minute to run and grab it
And a minute more to feel it against
Your skin
Soft and white
In deep contrast to the crimson
That spills from the cut
Girlie, why don't you?
If you won't take your life
Then feel the pain
Live in the pain
The beautiful pain
I guarantee
You'll be coming back for more
YOU ARE READING
Broken
PoetryThis is the story of two entities. Her and I. One urging for pain, the other holding onto hope. These are her words. Her views. Her ideas. How much longer can I live with Her?
