The knife is heavy
At my chest
The blade presses
Down hard
Whilst I watch the patches of
Crimson Blood
Fade through my hoody
Slowly
It is hard to discover
Where my untouched skin lies
Among the mutilated blotches.
YOU ARE READING
My voice in a world full of panic (poetry)
PoesiaIn a world of political madness and anxiety at school, this is MY voice My way of getting my opinion heard. #7 in darkpoetry 3/2/20 #2 in wattpadpoetry2020 2/2/20
