I stare up at the sky.
As the tears pool out of my open eyes.
I don't know what I'm doing.
And I don't know what I've done.
I'm laying there, so still.
Anyone one would think I'm asleep.
With my eyes open?
No, I'm not asleep.
But there are only a few ways to tell.
If you touched my neck or chest.
There would be no pulse.
If you looked around my body.
You would see a pool of blood.
And the cuts that line my now dead veins.
You never cared for me.
This was all that was left of me
What am I doing?
And what have I done?
Again by me, by the way if you have a poem that you would like me to post let me know or even of you have an idea that you would like me to write a poem on just message me or comment.
YOU ARE READING
The Truth
PoetryThis is a collect of my poems I know that originally it also had ones that I liked, but I deleted them to make it my own. Potential trigger warning Cover drawn by me. So don't judge, I know it's bad. *completed* 1st poem book "The Truth" 2nd poem b...
