4 months have gone by, I think that's how long it's been;
For 4 months I thought I was clean.
Today, my record is tainted, stained with my blood,
as I tremble and sob, tears creating a flood.
Will is shattered, my strength is gone,
Holding my blade again, look at the patterns I've drawn.
Over 4 months, the scars slowly healed,
but I've created new ones, a result of the pain I concealed.
When will this end, when will someone see?
I hate this world and I'm dying to be free.
I'm cutting again, the burning sensation feels nice,
it numbs the hurt like a bag of ice.
I laugh as my life source drains away,
knowing I've lost enough and won't need to go through another day;
A day of hate and resentment, knowing I'm not wanted,
The nights that got longer, the depression worse, I'm being haunted.
I look up to the sky to count the stars,
it's still less than my amount of scars.
YOU ARE READING
When the Silence is Broken
Poetry*Originally called Unspoken Thoughts* Here is a collection of unspoken thoughts as poems and written works. Pretty much any piece of writing I have that isn't necessarily a novel. Some sad, happy, others angry and upset. It is your choice to read t...
