It's raining
Outside
My arms
Feel
Cold
We just said
Our
School pledge
Which is
Just
One
Monologue of
Lies.
Each time
A
Lie
Is spoken
My
Arms get
Colder.
Maybe if I
Cut
My
Arms
They
Would bleed
Hot blood
And I
Wouldn't be so
Cold.
The
Rain has
Stopped.
But I
Still
Hear it,
The violent
Droplets of
Water crashing on my
Head.
"That's
Not water,"
They say.
"Those
Are words."
And it makes me wonder
How
People
Can see
Their
Words
And not see
How
Heavy they
Are...
YOU ARE READING
A little bit dead
PoetryPoems I write. They help me deal with my suicidal tendencies and my insecurities. Please take caution when venturing into the depths of my insanity.
