Her heart is racing,
She's afraid there's no mistaking.
Around the rooms she's pacing,
So tired of the faking.
The stitches on her wrists,
Makes you wonder,
How deep she cuts.
Does she know it's just a blunder?
Her scars,
Are overlapped.
This depression,
Makes her feel trapped.
Unsure of any other compromise,
She contemplates on suicide.
Maybe she won't do it.
Whether or not she can't decide.
YOU ARE READING
Written From The Heart; Processed by The Mind
PoesiaPoems are meant to pull you in and tug at your heart strings. The poems inside may make you feel understood, loved, or completely alone. Before you read these know wholeheartedly that you are not alone. Everyone feels down from time to time. But th...
