In the dark I lay, with tear stains beneath my eyes.
My voice makes no noise even though I want to scream and curse.
I want cut my wrists to see if I still bleed red or if all this pain has made me rotten.
I can't stand looking at the starts I wished to gaze at with you.
All that was once seemed grand to me is nothing more than ideals I don't know if I believe in anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Poems From a Mad mind.
PoesíaPoems I have written. They tend to be quick reads. Some sad, happy, depressing, deep, and everything in between. They are not all good but I like to think I have a few good ones scattered through. Some are short some are longer. So are simple some a...
