It's nighttime again, which means it's time to surrender to the guns aimed at me by my own thoughts, I'll let down the shields and accept the bullets as they make me bleed in ways I don't understand.
It's been a long day of the smiling facade, hours and hours of tortures sad lullabies playing in my head, voices I can't seem to shut out as I do any ordinary task, they stay with me throughout everything I do, like some sort of taunting background music to my life that I can't press 'pause' on.
I'll try to calm down my racing heart and shaking hands tonight and prepare myself to plaster up the war wounds again by tomorrow morning.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Torture.
PoëzieCollection of poems and pieces written about daily struggles and tackling big world problems from the eyes of a teenager. Warning: Some chapters might be triggering. Triggers include: Suicide Eating disorder Self harm