~Open
The wound's been opened too many times
With all the razors or knives
That I could find.
Skin is scared, from old ones to the knew
The count of white lines has steadily grown
Since you.
It gets so drastic, that I sit there sometimes and think
Why it is I let all of these things affect me.
Or how it is that she can't see
What we coulda shoulda been.
I put on a smile however, and I move on.
Knowing that if I go down, The rest will fall
They will see me upset and lost, and wonder what it is that they did wrong
Or why it is Ive been gone so long.
Or if Ill ever be back.
If I can come back.
and yeah.
YOU ARE READING
PoemsBleh
PoetryI only write poetry because I believe it's a way to show emotion, without being completely straight forward and overbearing with emotion. Poetry is a way to show who you are, so here's me.
