It's not beautiful
It's not nice
It's me
Pure, extremely raw
Don't tell me if it's written
Beautifully or not
Tell me if you feel,
What I'm going through
It's me, bleeding;
Right here and you are the one watching me
Don't tell me me bleeding,
Is pretty.
Ask me to stop.
I'm lying down
Crawling, desperate
To find the attention
Don't tell me you bleed pretty
Why don't you take it ahead?
I want you to understand
Not read
Feel, not applaud.
My veins are cut open
Spilling the dark ink
On the paper
Not the physical pain
Yes, but hurts more than
The reopened veins would give.
YOU ARE READING
Twenty Two!
PoesiaA collection of light and dark themed self musings that won't dissapoint you. Enjoy!
