~t/w: mentions of s3lf-injury and s3lf-h@rm~
i have all these words inside my brain
they bump around and cause me pain
i pour them out with pen and ink
to sort out the thoughts in which i think.
i write away to no avail
for brand new words are setting sail.
i scratch the words with permanence
but with no hope towards making sense.
like angry bees they buzz around
but the right words are never found.
i can't hope to describe how i feel
these words just do not seem as real.
the blades and cuts take away the pain
from my wrists, the blood will drain
and once i'm feeling good and numb,
right back to the pen i come.
to stop the sadness, fear and rage,
i put my feelings on the page.
YOU ARE READING
sad boi hours
Poetry~Trigger Warning: these poems contain somewhat graphic descriptions of mental health, s3lf-h@rm, e@ting d!sorders, su!cide and other topics that could potentially be upsetting. Poetry is one of my coping skills and a positive release for my emotion...
