Why do I do this to myself?
I tear myself down with drugs only to build myself up again.
Of course I'm not hurting anyone else,
And my life's become so plain.
Of course I've noticed what you see,
And as I look at my book of life tear itself apart page by page,
You distance yourself bit by bit,
And my eyes start to look more and more like a fuel gauge.
The pain inside is more than I can bear,
So I pretend I'm fine on the outside.
On the inside I feel my soul beginning to tear,
And I realize I must finally decide.
Do I tear myself down more?
Do I take your hand so you can pull me out of this self dug hole?
Will the moon mourn me when I'm gone?
Or will I give the sun my heart and soul?
YOU ARE READING
Undead Poetry.
PoetryLate night poems written by an insomniac, and published here. This'll be my poem collection, and will stay exclusively on Wattpad. I hope you enjoy these poems as much as I enjoy writing them.
