Why do we play this game again and again?
Always the same hoping for a new end
Why do we travel in circles without point?
And pawn our lives on the flip of a coin?
Why do we run endlessly from our pain,
only to give up and accept it as fate?
We crave this struggle, for without we die.
We need to bleed to know we're alive.
YOU ARE READING
Hurt Me Further
PoetryA series of poems I've written. Really depressing. Some are stories of my life. Others are just my descriptions/actions of and based on depression and PTSD enjoy :)
