Maybe he's the guy in the dream
Slicing me in half
Blood curdling screams
Chasing me around
My eyes hurt from bright beams
He killed me
I'm dead
Yet he says he loves me
YOU ARE READING
Hidden Pride
PoetryYears of depression bottled up and pour out. TW//: d*pression, su*cidal thoughts, self loathing, etc All poems are the authors original creation. Do not steal!
Nightmare
Maybe he's the guy in the dream
Slicing me in half
Blood curdling screams
Chasing me around
My eyes hurt from bright beams
He killed me
I'm dead
Yet he says he loves me