Black roses in hand;
The hood dripping blood;
Steps leaving burns behind;
It's not a nightmare, no.
It's me...in hell.
Ask me not how I am here,
I have always been here;
Bleeding, suffering yet alive.
Now you know
Where to find me;
Now you know
The demons in me.
Yet the more I push you away,
The closer you come.
The more I wanna be on my way,
Your eyes tell me,
"You need love. Here's some."
YOU ARE READING
Pen It Down
PoetryI'll be entertaining y'all while playing with words. Rest assured you won't leave without an impression. Sit back and enjoy!
