It's the devil's hour and I'm back again
To scribble down this feeling that drowns me
So you know
I wear my heart on my sleeves
This heartbreak isn't my first
Nor is it concluding
My long ride of depressing
Nights
As I cut with a smile on my face I watch the blood drop from my wrist
The one that I use to write
Down these feelings
So to lift off this weight
That is so big and tight
yet hidden in the depths of my
Delicate heart
To wake up to a day that I have been blessed with
To mend my heart
So as to heal
Yet leave with the scars that hold vivid recollections of this devil's hour.
_Tao
YOU ARE READING
Emotions In Word's
詩歌words better written than said. Emotions better written than shown. Art better written than painted. poems better written than spoken. Not very one has a voice to speak up so we write instead. Rose's are red violets are blue if you are a Poet or poe...
